Fate-Rongodamiant
by Legends Storyteller
Summary: Twelve years after the fifth Holy Grail War, a new one start. This time however, the rules aren't the same. Twenty-one Servants. Twenty-one Masters. Three Factions striving to gather the Grail Shards scattered around the world: the Masters of Red from the Mage's Association; the Master of Black from New Edge; the mysterious Masters of White. /!\ Full OC Grail War.
1. Prologue

"At last, it is here... Isn't it interesting to think that such a day would come?"

Those words, pronounced with both anticipation and solemnity, escaped the mouth of a man in his late thirties as he rolled up his sleeves.

He was quite the singular person, and anybody laying eyes on him would only feel this sense of strangeness emanatting from him, as though this feeling had become part of his very being. The most striking about him was without a doubt his appearance: it was so unusual and extraordinary he couldn't possibly hide even amidst a crowd.

First was his hair; the silky fibers falling down to his waist like a waterfall had not one colour but two: indeed, those growing from the left side of his cranium were gray like cold ashes, whereas those cascading from the right side of his head bore the strong orange of the silently burning ember.

Then there were his clothes; no matter how one would try to arrange them, they would never go well together as their colors didn't mesh in a way that was pleasurable for the eye. On his chest he wore what seemed to be the unthought mix between a fur coat and an Hawaiian shirt; it was entirely buttoned up in spite of the high temperature and the moisture of the air. The shoes at his feet would seem normal if one merely glanced over them, but a more curious eye would notice the strage way light was reflecting on it. The truth was that the man's shoes were made of wood; more precisely, of mahogany wood. No matter how you looked at it, these weren't meant to be comfortable in any way, and yet their owner was walking around in them at all times.

The result of this uncomprehensible arrangement wasn't an eyesore, as one could expect. On the contrary, especially because it was him this get up created an otherworldy aura around the man that could only be described as 'unique'. The affable expression adorning his face, like that of a gentleman, coupled with the exhaustion in his eyes further reinforced that impression.

The name of this man made of contrasts, this unlikely human who stood out no matter where he stood, was Ivan Pedilefey.

Unlike his appearance which was the fruit of an intelligent being, the area around him had been harmoniously created by nature alone. At the moment, Ivan was crouching inside a cave with walls of white chalk shaped like a natural dome. Dark green moss and algae were partially covering the floor and climbing up the immaculate white walls like wild vines, silently singing how the hands of men had never reached this pristine place.

From the very top of the bell-shaped cave, sunlight shone abundantly through a large hole that seemed to have been made by a falling meteor. It illuminated the inside of the cavern which would have been plunged in the dark otherwise; a lone beam of light amidst the darkness of the underground. The azure blue sky visible through this natural window, devoid of any cloud, as well as the sound of the waves breaking calmly against the sand were indicators that this secret place was located on some uninhabited southern island.

How Ivan had managed to find this place or even knew how to look for it was unknown. Even he wasn't exactly sure how his 'instinct' worked. But the fact was that he was here, and he had found what he had been looking for.

It was there, right in front of his crouching figure: a sight that didn't belong to the realm of nature, yet didn't bear the mark of human intervention either. It looked like some kind of pedestal made of the same white chalk that composed the rest of the grotto; it had probably been sculpted through erosion whenever the sea water filled the cave. But that was of no importance. The true objective of Ivan and what made this place more than a simple cavern, was located on this pedestal like a prized work of art to admire: a chunk of golden metal the size of a fist was embedded into the chalk.

Even though the cracks surrounding it hinted that it had come crashing down through the hole in the ceiling – or that it had created it – the fragment of gold looked as though it had become one with its podium, like a parasite invading the body of its host. The most visible sign of this fusion were thin golden veins which were running on the surface of the pedestal, dancing with the fissures to create a complicated pattern. Each one of the long golden lines could be traced back to the golden fragment, and the latter was like a heart connected to actual veins.

It wasn't just an analogy: it was pulsating.

At a rythm of once every two seconds, the chunk of metal beat like a human heart, diffusing a golden light through the shining veins. Each wave was accompanied by a flow of energy, magical energy which was meaningful only for a magus.

A magus like Ivan was.

"All the preparations are ready. Now, shall we start?"

Finally, he stood up and dusted off his clothes before beholding the result of his endeavor in front of him: there, he had pulled off the moss to reveal the white floor of the cavern and, for the past ten minutes, he had been drawing something.

It was a circle; a large dark red circle of at least two meters of diameter, containing in its center a star of David. Filling it were numerous complicated scriptures and symbols which together culminated into a thoroughly complexe design, so intricate it was hard to believe Ivan had drawn it by hand and without making a single mistake.

It was a magic circle, something that would seem dangerous and ominous to the masses, but was in truth nothing more than a tool for rituals. As to what he had drawn it with, it would be the blood that used to be contained in the empty bottle laying at his feet.

Satisfied with his work, Ivan left his positing for an instant before coming back with a peculiar object in his hands. It was a large wooden sword the size of a claymore, so thick and sturdy it could be used as a baseball bat. It's surface, which had probably been decorated in the distant past, was now nothing more than decaying wood. The sword itself was only a dummy, a pale copy of the original it was supposed to impersonate, yet it was still an ancient artifact filled with Mystery.

It would do quite nicely as a Catalyst.

 _"Let silver and steel be the essence_

 _Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation."_

After putting down the wooden sword in the middle of the magic circle, Ivan begun reciting the magical formulas without waiting a single minute more. Raising his arm in front of him, he felt his prana burn within his magic circuits like boiling water. A mistake in the ritual wouldn't be without consequences, yet the paradoxical man showed neither hesitation nor fear: on the contrary, his eyes display his same usual calm, whereas the grin splitting his face did a poor job hiding his excitement.

 _"Let **white** be the color I pay tribute to."_

Wether or not he realized it, with this single sentence Ivan Pedilefey betrayed the very essence of the ritual known as the Holy Grail War. A tournament between magi to reach the Root; the seven Masters chosen by the Grail; the seven Servants fighting the war in their stead.

All of those rule were broken at once from the moment he had announced the colour of his flag.

 _"Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall._

 _Let the four cardinal gates close._

 _Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate._

 _Let it be declared now;_

 _your flesh shall serve under me and my fate shall be with your sword._

 _Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail._

 _Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth._

 _An oath shall be sworn here._

 _I shall attain all virtues of all heavens;_

 _I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell."_

The summoning ritual was almost complete; only a single line was left to be pronounced. By now the prana flowing from Ivan's body to the magic circle had become a storm of raging energy swepting dust away with a strong wing which filled the whole cave. Ivan's heart was beating faster and faster before ventually the last words left his mouth fiercely.

 _«From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power,_

 _come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!»_

The raging storm gathered in a single point in the middle of circle, envelopping the Catalyst chosen by Ivan, before exploding in a wave of energy that almost threw him off his feet.

And amidst the flying dust and the last gleams of prana, the life that didn't exist in this place a second before stood proudly. Slowly as the all the dust finished falling to the ground, in front of Ivan was a muscular man wearing what looked like red body thights with some pieces of armor on his shoulders and knees. His hair and his beard were of crimson red deeper than that if his clothes, and his eyes of light green glinted with strength and confidence.

"According to the summon, I present myself -Saber of White. My fate shall be with you and my sword shall be as your sword."

* * *

 **Prologue: The Power Unleashed**

* * *

The office was filled with a tension so thick you could cut with a knife.

It was a simple room all in all: the only furnitures present in this study were a few shelves filled with numerous ancient-looking book with richly decorated binding, a dark green carpet large enough that it almost covered the entire floor, and a huge table of blackish wood with foure chairs disposed around it in a way so that those sitting there could see the person in front of them.

The books stored in those shelves had to be extremely rare and precious – not only because they seemed older than most people crawling the Earth, but because this study was located nowhere else than in the Clock Tower of London, one of the few places in teh world where knowledge about magecraft and the world of magi was concentrated to such an extent. Other such organizations would be the Wandering Sea and Atlas Academy; that was how rare it was. Therefore, for these antique books to be here, they'd have to be priceless at least for those who dwelled in the Mage's Association.

But what would be even more precious would be the people sitting around the large table in the center of the room: three men of different ages and ranks had gathered here in the same room for the same goal, even though some of them were from opposing factions within the Mage's Association.

Obviously the pressure emanatted from the three of them, but it wasn't directed at each other. They were impatiently waiting for someone, for the man who would fill the fourth chair next to them. However, none of that tension showed in their expression, an dif anything they looked calm but serious.

Suddenly, the three of them heard the door of the office open and shut behind them and they looked at the newcomer, the person they had been waiting for. It was a man probably in his mid-fourties, visibly the oldest person in the room. His clothing couldn't be called anything but elegant, yet at the same time is seemed so discreet he could walk in the street without sticking out like a sore thumb. His gaze bore a similar elegance, although it was mixed with severity and a hint of hatred which was characteristic of him.

His name was Victor Vasilia, one of the Lords of the Clock Tower of London. He was a man of fearsome reputation, not because of the eerie rumors on his experiments – those wouldn't make a proper magus wince – but because he was notorious as a plotter who uses his wits.

"Gentlemen." He greeted them without an ounce of warmth. "I see everyone is here already, that will spare us any more wait. At any rate, I believe none of you truly ignore our current situation."

"""...""" None of them opened his mouth to either greet him or blame him as he was the late one. They didn't care for this; all they were interested in was what he had to say.

It was true though, all of them more or less had an idea of what was going on. Out of the three men sitted around the table, two of them were of great reknown within the Mage's Association: there was Bram Nuada-Re Sophia-Ri, the head of the Department of Evocation. Because of his position, it was already obvious he was to be involved. The person sitting in front of him was Lord El-Melloi II. The presence of this instructor, who took part in a certain ritual in the year 1994, made it clearer and clearer what the matter at hand was, but until words would cast it in stone, they simply stared at Lord Vasilia in silence.

"Twelve years ago, a ritual known as the Holy Grail War took place in a Japanese town of the name of Fuyuki City. I'll skip the details since you already know them, and I'll go straight to the matter at hand. The Holy Grail War of 2004 was the fifth one, and presumably the last one." Lord Vasilia paused. "Or so we thought, until a couple weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago..." Another voice rose within the room – it was El-Melloi's, who had reacted to Vasilia's comment. "Are you saying that this incident with the ley lines is related to the Holy Grail?"

 _'This incident'_ was referring to a strange event which had occured at the same time Vasilia had mentioned. Roughly two weeks prior to this meeting, several ley lines all around the world – from Europe to Asia, including archipelagos – had activated at the same time. It wasn't that they had been dried before, but it had been as though they were sending a signal; or reacting to _something_. But after a full day, they stopped their strange demeanor, and nothing more happened afterward.

"The Holy Grail would have been the reason why the ley lines reacted? Had it only been one, I'd understand, but why would such faraway ley lines behave like that? More importantly, what happened to the Grail?!"

"..." Again, there was a short pause from Lord Vasilia, who closed his eyes before uttering two words. "Grail Shards."

"...?"

"That's how I've named it – that is, my theory. The Grail was supposedly destroyed during the last ritual, but as far as we know it was only the Lesser Grail. In other words, the Greater Grail is intact and functioning perfectly; the Heaven's Feel can still take place. Yet we haven't heard anything about a new Lesser Grail from the Einzbern. I don't need to mention that this is highly improbable considering they are the only one capable of constructing one. That's how I've reached the conclusion, from what little information we have, that the Lesser Grail from the previous war hasn't been destroyed."

"But didn't you just said it was?" Bram interjected. "If it has survived, then how comes we haven't heard of it in twelve years?"

"' _Destroyed'_ isn't the exact word; it would be more correct to say it was split in several pieces – those I've referred to as Grail Shards. Upon it's destruction, the Grail split in several shards which moved away from Fuyuki City, the original location of the ritual, to land in different part of the planet. All the ley lines which reacted a couple weeks ago are quite powerful in their own right, but they are away from civilization. Anyway, if this part is speculation, it is afatc that a new Holy Grail War has started."

"What of it? Even if a new War starts, the Mage's Association role regarding it is only to send a representative as one of the Masters. As a matter of fact, what evidence have you found about a new Holy Grail War?"

With a wave of his hand which betrayed his annoyance at Sophia-Ri's comment, Victor Vasilia indicated the fourth man sitting across the table. The latter was so different from the three magi he seemed quite strange, in the sense that he seemed too normal for this strange place. He wasn't exactly dressed sloppily, but his get-up was visibly more average-looking than his peer's rich clothes. It was only that, but his face only told of normalcy. In anything, he looked like any familyman.

"Our guest here is the younger brother of the current head of the Argas family – Michael Argas. Usually he would have nothing to do here, but... Mr. Argas, if you will."

Apparently unwilling to explain everything, Vasilia gave the man a cryptic order. Upon hearing it, Michael Argas raised his hand which until now had been hidden under the table. On the back, a peculiar tatoo of a deep crimson red was showing, contrasting with his everyday appearance. It was composed of three parts which together formed some sort of triskele. They allowed no further doubt for Lord El-Melloi II and Bram Nuada-Re Sophia-Ri, for those were the mark of one designated as a Master – the Command Seals.

"The presence of a Master among us should be enough proof. He isn't the only one, several persons inside the Clock Tower have been chosen as Masters. And to answer your first question, Lord Sophia-Ri – as to why we are gathered here – it is imperative that we gather these Masters as well as powerful Catalysts as fast as possible."

"?" Neither El-Melloi nor Sophia-Ri understood. "Lord Vasilia, it seems there is a misunderstanding. Why should we interfere in this matter?"

"...We've received a declaration of war."

* * *

At the same moment, thousands of kilometers away from the Mage's Association's headquarter, in a room plunged in the dark there was a single man. His appearance had nothing extraordinary in a way; well-combed hair and an expensive business suit – he looked like a typical businessman.

The same went for the room he was in, had the lights been on: It was a study of sort with a large desk occupying a good third of it, while the rest of it was filled by bookshelves, low tables and piles of documents. On his desk, there was nothing but a computer, a few pencils and more paperwork. No matter how one looked at it, it was quite the common workplace, at least in appearance. But that was also all it was, for the study lacked any hint of personality, not a single proof that it belonged to one person rather than another. Be it pictures, small decorations or even photographs, none of it found their way to this underground room.

If asked, this man would probably answer that such things didn't have their place in there, and that what this room represented was already all his life. He wouldn't be wrong to say that, though it could also be said that, by its very lack of personal display, this study was a reflection of himself. As to what he was personally doing in these darkness, the simplest answer would be nothing; merely, he was spacing out, thinking and remembering with his eyes closed.

His name was Alexander Alan Lendric. He was the head of an international organization which went by the name of New Edge; as far as the masses were concerned, it was specialized in supplying various kinds of products, from military uniforms to lab equipment. Simply put, it answered requests through the use of its connections and partnerships. On the inside though, there was a side of this organization which was to remain secret, but which spelled its true purpose.

 _Knock, knock!_

The sound of someone knocking lightly on the door pulled Alexander out of his reverie – without waiting for his approval of even a reaction, the door opened, casting light inside the otherwise dark study. He opened his eyes just enough not to be blinded by the sudden illumination, and his gaze landed in a blackened figure standing in the door frame.

The figure sighed and extended their hand to the switch next to the door. After blinking a few times, the cold artificial light of the neon lamps on the ceiling chased the shadows away and illuminated the person who was now standing upright in front of Alexander's desk: it was a woman not any older than Alexander himself – which meant she had to be in her early thirties – with thistle violet hair tied into an elaborate and wearing an office uniform. This woman with an air of strictness to her was Loïa Beddway, Alexander's personal secretary.

"Mr. Lendric, may I know what you were doing in the dark?" Without so much as greeting him, she gave him a suspicious gaze.

"Just saving on the electricity bill." He replied jokingly, not bothered in the slightest by his secretary's coldness. "Just kidding, I'm just taking a break."

Loïa heaved a small sigh, but didn't add anything.

"Rest while you can." Her expression softened a bit before she resumed speaking. "Anyway, we're done with the first step."

"How did it go?"

"They reacted pretty much as you expected. They didn't take us seriously, until we mentioned the Holy Grail."

Alexander grinned. It was a ferocious smile, the smile of someone who just took their revenche on a long-time enemy.

The 'first step' Loïa had mentioned was the accomplishment of New Edge's fundamental purpose: _to declare war on the Mage's Association_. It was a strange thing, to think they, a lowly organization would have the recklessness and the boldness to directly confront the millenia-old Mage's Association which reigned tyranically on the wowld of magi. Even if New Edge was also an organization meant to gather mages, it was nowhere near the Clock Tower in term of importance and influence and a confrontation between the two organisations would invariably end with their loss.

For them to take such an action, they'd have to be mad. That, or he's need to have the means to win.

Alexander lifted his hand to take alook at the crimson red pattern drawn on it; his Command Seals had a shape vaguely ressembling a pair of wings with a feathered tail in the middle. Those on Loïa's hand looked like a trio of eyes, the likes of which Hindu deities had.

Such was the message they had sent:

 _"The New Edge Corporation hereby declares war on the Mage's Association in accordance to the rules of the Holy Grail War. We have gathered seven Masters of our own and shall compete to claim the Holy Grail to destroy the Mage's Association."_

The Holy Grail War. Alexander couldn't be thankful enough for it to have suddenly happened, and in such a flashy way. What the message said was the entire truth: as soon as Alexander has understood a new War was underway, he moved Heavens and Earth to find more Masters and to gather Catalysts for them. In the end he has ended up with Seven Masters – ironically, that was the original number of participants for the ritual known as the Holy Grail War.

There was no way in hell he would waste this god given occasion fate had layed out before him.

However, there was one thing that still bothered him and wouldn't stop gnawing at him: New Edge had gathered seven Masters, and the Clock Tower will probably have seven as well – for some reasons, it seemed the failsafe of the Holy Grail had been activated, resulting in fourteen Command Selas being distributed.

Or so it should have been. Yet when New Edge detected the anomaly in the ley lines one month prior to this day, they've noticed the quantity of mana released was way higher than it should have been for fourteen participants; to put it bluntly, there were probably twenty-one Masters in the whole world. It was unknwon how the Grail could have given out that many rights, but it was still a solid possibility, if not a fact. But what truly intrigued Alexander wasn't that there were so many participants. Aside from his own Masters, he had spotted around the same number of other candidates, but those were already within the grasp of the Clock Tower.

Now... _where were the last seven Masters_?

"...Well, if I brood too much over the unknown factors, I'll forget what's right in front of me. Now, Loïa, are all of our 'representents' here?"

"Affirmative, Mr. Lendric. The last Masters have finished moving the our headquarters. Only half of them summoned a Servant already though."

"Then please ask those who have summoned theirs yet to do so within a week. We never know when the Mage's Association might make their move."

"Very well, sir."

Alexander stood up and looked at the ceiling, as though starring at something far beyond it, far beyond the reach of his eyesight. The strange determination in his eyes, did they truly look like that of a normal businessman?

"It seems I am too weak to fulfill my wish by myself. Won't you help me then, O Grail?"

* * *

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _Hi everybody starting this serie, this is Legends Storyteller. If you've decided to read this prologue because the premise of this story interest you, you're welcome! If you were just bored an picked it randomely, you're welcome as well!_

 _This is actually a rewriting of Rongodamiant's prologue: two years have already gone by since I started this serie, and unavoidably my writing skills haven't stagnated all the while. I couldn't resist rewriting at least my first few chapters since I don't want those who have come take a look to be put off by the level I and two years ago._

 _You can't begin how happy it makes me that you people read my stories – it is the pleasure of every writer to be read. If you were convinced, or at the very least intrigued by this prologue, I wish you a good reading experience! I sincerely hope you'll have as much fun reading Rongodamiant than I have writing it._

 _ **Please note that the following chapters may not have been rewrited yet at the time you read this message (since rewriting a chapter takes just as much time as writing a new one).**_

 _Once again, thank you for reading! Don't hesitate to comment, review or ask a question!_

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	2. Chapter I: Blood Red

Life, n. : 1. The quality that distinguishes a vital and functional being from a dead body. 2. A principle or force that is considered to underlie the distinctive quality of animate beings. 3. The sequence of physical and mental experiences that make up the existance of an individual.

And the list goes on, with so many ways to define the word 'life'. Yet, the guy who came up with them apparently never had the idea of adding a single definition with two very simple words: 'not fair'. Yep, life was many thing, but if there was something it definitely wasn't it would be 'fair'. It wasn't even a matter of how 'cruel is the world' or of how 'people are just monster' or none of that crap. Life was fundamentally unfair in the mere fact that people would lead completely different ones whther they want it or not. Whether they realize it or not.

Some would have a straight line of a life, without any surprise and not the slightest twist, calm waters without disturbance. They could be happy with it or not, it didn't matter here. Meanwhile, right next to them there are poor souls who just can't catch a break, either in misery or in happiness, or in both mixed together. Life just loved to throw curveballs at them, and each time the ball would be invisible. And the worst part was that it was all cumulative; a happy occurence wouldn't erase a sad turn of events, because life wasn't a math problem and things like that would just keep piling on.

All in all, life was a sadist. And because it was such a sadist, right now a poor boy was freezing to death while sitting at a cafe.

"Brrrbrr! Ugh, what is Oncle Michael doing?! ' _Wait for me outside_ ' my ass! That bastard, does he actually want me to be an ice cream by the time he gets here?!"

That was the unfortunate poor soul, Leo. Actually, his full name was Leonidas Argas, but not that he would usually admitt it openly. At best, he would present himself as Leo Argas, but he would always cut his first name short. That was one of the things life didn't go easy on him about. Someone's name was very important, and when it was this peticular one would either grow to hate it or to love it. Leo hated it. Granted, he wasn't the only one with a name that would attract attention, and he was the only one who thought it was a bother.

But how could he not?

'Leonidas' was two things: a famous king and a brand of chocolate shops; both inspired grandeur and expectation. Leo was neither and wanted neither. He wasn't yearning for extra attention, on the contrary. He wanted a more normal name, which was why he'd ask everyone to call him by his nickname, Leo. People didn't make comments about it and could hardly make jokes with that. It was perfect. Michael, the man Leo was waiting for, had understood that and was calling him by nickname, so all was good. Speaking of him, what was taking him so long?! People inside the cafe and those walking down the street were looking at him like curious animals. Leo couldn't blame them since he was sitting outside the cafe in the dead of winter, quite clearly freezing and the cofee he had commanded was already cold.

Anyway, back to himself, Leo didn't like his name. A special name for a special person, and a normal name for a normal person. He was a normal person...!...is what he would have loved to say, but even in this aspect life sucker punched him in the guts, didn't it?

Leonidas Argas: average-looking teenager and also your local magus. Well, 'local' might not be the most appropriate word here since there were more than one magus around. No surprise here; this was the city of London, meaning the Clock Tower and all its students and teachers were walking around like normal citizens. Being a magus was another side of his life that Leo hated. The reason was because being one them was the cause of half his problems. Take his name for exemple: every magi ever had a weird ass name that would be unbelievable otherwise. Although in that aspect he was pretty well-off, that didn't mean Leo didn't hold a grudge for it.

But because magi lived and interacted mostly between themselves with little care for the masses, the name problem didn't bother them. They probably never experienced it, instead taking pride in having some novel characters' names. The thing was, Leo wasn't like them. He didn't like them at all, even though he had already been student at the Clock Tower for a whole year. He felt like a stranger in this world he didn't get to grow up in. But wait, there was more: the icing on the cake was that not only he had to study in this hierarchical society that was constantly like a political drama, but he wasn't from some no-name magus family. Not like he was from the cream of the crop either, but the name of Argas wasn't without influence depending on where you asked. Meaning some people would try to leech off him and gain his favor or something.

Anyway, the conclucion of all that was that he didn't like his name and he was cold, so life was really unfair. QED.

"Achoo! _Sigh_ , and the worst is life decided to drop one more problem in my hands. Whatever, should I call him to check if he isn't dead?" Leo mused, for unlike most magi he and Michael possessed a mobile phone and knew how to use one.

By the way, as for what Michael's relationship with Leo was, the two were uncle and nephew. Michael Argas, whom Leo hadn't seen ever since he left for London more or less one year prior to this day, had suddenly called him to announce he was also at the Clock Tower instead of still being in France like Leo expected him to be. He also asked to meet him out there, which was the reason why Leo was risking his life in the cold right now. Although they had a touchy subject to talk about, Leo wasn't especially nervous - if anything, this was a reunion between he and his beloved uncle after a long harrassing year spent with annoying people. Therefore he was actually quite happy and relieved to meet him.

That is, he would be if he hadn't been waiting for nearly an hour now.

Yet against all expectation, the first to call wasn't him but Michael. Hearing the familiar ringtone, Leo hurriedly grabed his phone with shaking hands and answered.

"Hello, you asshole."

 _"What was that for?! Why do you sound angry when I should be?"_

"What gives you the right to be angrier than me right now?"

 _"Our meeting, you brat. Where are you right now? How comes you're still not here?!"_

"...Excuse me?" Leo couldn't believe what he heard. "What do you mean I'm not here?"

 _"Exactly what I'm saying. I've been waiting for more than an hour inside the cafe for you to show your_ face!"

"...Inside the cafe?" What was this emotion flowing uncontrolably inside of Leo? What was this pain in his chest? "Just to be sure, you asked me to meet you outside, right?"

 _"Mh? Oh, that I did. I actually expected to have some things to take care beforehand so I thought you'd be here first. But instead I was freed earlier and decided to wait inside. By the way, you won't believe it but apparently there's some moron who commanded outside in this temperature! Ha! I'm not sure whether they're courageous or just downright stupid! Hahaha! Anyway, where are you?"_

Pure, unadultered rage.

"Oh don't worry, I'll be here right this instant. I even have a surprise for you!"

 _"Oho~, trying to soothe my anger with a bribe, are we? What is it?"_

"Oh, you'll see..."

The answer was: a very, very cold coffee right in Michael's face. This was the very happy and absolutely not violent homecoming between a nephew and his uncle.

And the meeting between two Masters of the Red Faction.

* * *

 **FATE/RONGODAMIANT**

 **Act I: THE HOLY GRAIL WAR**

 **Chapter I: Blood Red**

* * *

Once their heartfelt reunion - a.k.a Leo slamming a cup of cofee in his uncle's face and the latter wiping it off with Leo's coat - was over and done, Michael and Leo left the cafe, though not without apologizing to the manager for the disturbance first. Leo was all the more spiteful since he had only be able to profit of the cafe's warmth for a few minutes before being back in the cold outside world.

"So, where exactly are you planning to take me, Oncle Michael?" Leo inquired as soon as they were back on the street. "I seriously hope you didn't have me come all the way out there for nothing."

"What are you saying? This is the first time we see each other face to face after one whole year! Isn't that a good enough reason for you, young man?" The man stuffed in a fur jacket complained exaggeteradly while gesturing dramatically. "Is this all your reconnaissance for your poor uncle amounts too?! Kids these days..."

"Hey now, be careful; you're already starting to speak like an old man." Triggered by Michael's poorly serious attitude, Leo felt like taking a jab at him."What, did you miss me so much you aged twice as m- Bghle!"

But before he could merely utter two sentences, Michael suddenly yanked Leo, headlocked him under his arm and proceeded to forcefully rub his hair with his free fist. While this gesture might not sound all that harmful, it was actually quite painful in practice with enough strength. As Leo had learned in the past, Michael was a honed torturer as long as he was applying this technique and this time was not an exception at all. If anything, it seemed Michael was putting more energy into the gesture than usual.

"Gh-Ouch-!H-Ouch-!, stop already you old man! You're gonna rub my hair off if you keep doing this -Ouch!"

"Hahahaha! I missed you so much, for God's sake! Damn, it's already been a year but I see you still don't have enough muscle to stand up to your uncle~! This is sad, really: you're not a kid anymore but you're still so scrawny, just like your father. We have to correct this immediatly, so come and wrestle with me some more!"

"I said let go! And people are watching too...Ouch!"

After a couple more 'Ouch!''s, Michael finally freed his prisoner from his terrible embrace with a hearty laugh. Leo felt wobbly on his feet, his body having forgotten what it felt like to get a head rub after a year, and his expression was that of embarassement; if he could still fool around with his uncle just like he did when he was a kid even after all those years, it wasn't without a hint of shame. But whatever, although he didn't openly admit it he had also missed Michael very much. The latter was like a father to him, much more than his actual father; a feeling that was easily justified by the fact that Leo had been living at Michael's home for ten years until he started his scolarship at the Clock Tower. As for his biological father...well, let's not mention him for now.

"But you still haven't answered my question, Oncle Michael. Why did you ask me to come all the way here instead of visiting me directly? In fact, why didn't you start by that when you arrived in London?"

"I'd have loved to do just that, but I was busy and had things to take care of first. I needed to visit some big shots in the Mage's Association as soon as possible. In fact, that's the reason I came over to England in the first place."

"Wow, I had no idea you were a busy person. In fact, do you even have a job?"

"Well, let's just say that the Argas family has enough wealth to spare some for me." Michael mumured while looking away, faking a guilty look.

"So you've been leeching off my father all this time? My image of you is starting to crumble!"

"And whose son do you think I've been taking care of?!"

"My scalp wouldn't call it ' _taking care_ ' as a matter of fact..." Leo whispered under his breath, making sure that Michael did not hear that. It'd be a one way ticket or another head scrub.

"This is the least he can do for you, don't you think? I mean, making sure you won't be lacking anything. And you know, it's not like I do nothing with my life! If you knew the things I had to do for-"

"Wait, I think we're getting side-tracked here." Leo interrupted Michael just in time not to hear something he would rather not. And they were indeed losing the thread of the conversation, if there had been any; it was unavoidable with their antics that they would go on some ridiculous subjects, but didn't Michael mention something important just a minute ago? "You said you had business with some big shots?! What kind of business, pray tell?"

'Don't you have an idea already?' was what Michael's expression was telling him. Instead of replying directly the latter instead took of one of his gloves and showed the back of his hand to Leo. Strangely, the nephew wasn't suprised when he saw a crimson red motif seemingly tattoed on his uncle's hand. It was something he had never seen once before, and he was pretty sure tatoos weren't part of Michael's fashion sense, so it was pretty easy to guess what it was: Command Spells. Three crvy lines danced acrossed his hand and joined each other to form something ressembling a triskele. As to why Leo was taken aback by the revelation, it was simply because Michael was the only one to have received the rights of a Master - Leo had his own set if blood red motifs on his hand. Though on this side, he thought Michael had been luckier than his since his Command Spell looked eerily like a creepy smile with pointy teeth.

In fact, after he found out about those Command Spells, the teenager had contemplated the possibility of sueing the Mage's Association for this, if that was possible at all. This Machiavelian plan was abandoned at once however, considering his odds of victory in a court case were closer to zero percent, not to mention that in either victory or defeat the Association won't miss on the chance of slicing his throat in a back alley.

"Yep, that's right." Michael finally commented. "We're both Masters, and we're both involved in one messy situation. _Sigh_... Oh, by the way, the place I'm taking you to right now is the Clock Tower."

"What? Oncle Michael, allow me to doubt your taste for this date. Why are we going over there? No, before that, why didn't you ask me to meet up there directly? I'm not a kid who needs to be accompagned anymore you know."

"I know, I know. You're a fine, strong and responsible adult, O lord Leonidas!" Michael went as far as to bow down respectufully to annoy him this time. "But jokes aside, I just wanted to speak while walking. I thought you might want to be more informed on what kind of trouble you bogged yourself down."

"I didn't bog myself down, I didn't even do anything at all! I just received some demonic tatoo one morning and next thing I know I'm involved in a battle royal between magus!"

Leo ranted about their secret society's matters without caring at all that pedestrian around them could probably hear them. It wasn't like they could understand anything of what they were talking about anyway, let alone take it seriously. At best they would thing they were talking about some video games, and at worst they would think they were lunatics. Not that they would be wrong, but that last one still hurt.

"Oh, I take it you've already been briefed on the Holy Grail War then. That's great, it cuts me the need of explaining everything from the start."

"'Briefed' is a big word for what was essentially personal research. I was told what my Command Spells were and what they implied by some instructor, but anything beyond that I had to look for in the Association's library. Not to mention that I found more books about some pretty shadowy subjects than information about the Grail War."

"I see. Well, not that I'm really surprised since it's not their personal business; they're not civil workers. Anyway, we need to move on so can you tell me what you know so far?"

"Well, I've learned more about the Holy Grail War, the whole purpose of it, Master and Servants and that's about it. Simply put, seven magi are chosen by a wish-granting device to compete and kill each other. And instead of doing so with their bare hands, they have to summon Servants to do the dirty work."

Honestly, even if Leo was a magus this whole story sounded pretty surreal. A ritual where you had to fight to death against other magi wasn't very farfetched in his imagination, and there he had heard of much crazier kind of researches being conducted, so he hadn't frowned upon this part. However the idea of summoning Servants - the manifestation of a hero - had never so much as crossed his mind. Especially because he was a magus, Leo understood to a certain extent the theory behind and thus understood how big a thing it was. Or was he too impressionable because he wasn't too interested in magecraft? Was he like a coutryside kid impressed by his first stroll into a big city?

"So you know the basics at least. Good, this cuts me a lot of explaination to do so let's get straight at the heart of the matter."

"The heart of the matter? You mean there is more for me to now than the whole book I had to read in the library?" Leo yawned. He did stay up late to finish reading this damned volume. "I take it that means the situation is weird, for a change."

"Of course it is! Why else would I, another Master, come to strike up a chat with you? What, did you think I came here to stab you in the guts and get rid of competition?!"

"Hmm," Leo pretended to think deeply. "No, I must say I was expecting something along the lines of you helping the nephew you've been looking after for years, but I must admitt the whole 'stabbing' was a close second."

"Now listen here you shitty brat...!"

"Okay, okay, I surrender! Just leave my hair alone!" Beads of sweat pearled down Leo's forehead as he avoided certain doom for his hairline. "I get it, this is a serious talk so no more joking around. At any rate, won't you just tell me what kind of mess I got myself into this time."

"One pretty huge mess, I can tell you. Anyway, here goes." Michael cleared his throat, and his brows furrowed further as if to indicate Leo that he had to listen carefully. "Normally the Holy Grail War is fought between seven magi in a Japanese metropolitan city named Fuyuki. That's where the ritual was constructed more than two centuries ago, and that's where all five of them took place."

"I take it that means it's not the case anymore." Leo guessed from the way Michael begun his explanation.

"Nope. Something happened and somehow the Grail is supposedly broekn in tiny pieces and spread around the world. Hence we cannot resrtict the Grail War to one place only. But that's only the tip of the iceberg you see: usually, it would be a free-for-all between seven magi. No less, no more. There one theorical exception but the odds are extremely low. But this time...how should I say, things were blown out of proportion and there are way too many Servants and Masters."

"What do you mean by 'too many'? That doesn't really help me gauge the situation."

"..." Michael paused for a second and grimly announced: "In theory the Grail can't supply more than fourty-two Command Spells, in other words fourteen Servants should be the maximum. But honestly, considering how many improbable factors have come into play to create his situation, I wouldn't be surprised if more than that showed up. I'm not the one doing the paperwork or supervising anything so I wouldn't know the details, but methinks the simple fact that we cannot get an accurate number is proof that we can expect more."

Ah, Leo could understand why Michael was so grim now. It was quite obvious with the way he acted, but his uncle was very un-magus-like, though Leo had never been told why. And he never questionned it since it was only normal for people outside of this different world to resent it. In all honesty, the main reason why Leo was at odds with his magus heritage was because Michael had rubbed off on him. He was the kind uncle that had looked after him all this time, the sort of person who cared more for others than for himself.

And consequently, when something as dangerous as Servants were roaming around and in great number, he probably couldn't ease his mind. When doing his own research Leo found out the familiars called Servants were nothing shorts of superhumans, even for the weakest of them. That went without saying considering who they were supposed to be, but the fact they could be kept on leash by people with unpredictable goals changed the meaning of that strength and made it downright alarming.

However, as cruel as it may have sounded, Leo's thoughts weren't aimed in this direction, instead worrying about his own safety.

"Wait, so basically that means that in order to win you'd need to defeat double the amount of opponents without any restricted area and without any way to mediate the ritual? It looks nothing like a Holy Grail War aside from the name now! I'm not taking part in something like that!"

Not that he was ever planning to from the beginning. The very moment something as troublesome-sounding as the Holy Grail War reared its ugly head, Leo had already decided he wanted nothing to do with it. However it wasn't like he knew how to avoid it, which was why he expected Michael to help him out on this one. And yet, to his surprise, Michael's words were the following:

"I'm afraid you don't have much of a say in the matter, Leo. From the moment those Command Seals appeared on your hand, you've been designated as a Master by the Grail and you're not getting away."

Flabbergasting. Hearing those words, casually explaining to him how he cannot escape participating in a Battle Royal, and from his uncle of all people - all of that left Leo astounded with his mouth hanging. That is, until he recovered his ability to speak which he used to great length and to great volume.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"

"Kh, lower your voice kiddo! I don't care if we're heard but think of my eardrums!"

"What do you mean, 'lower your voice kiddo'?! You're telling me to take part in a shaddy ritual that could cost me my life, uncle Judas! You Ganelon! You Mordred!"

"I'm not telling you to take part in it, for Heavens' Sake! What I'm saying is that you'd better not try too hard to avoid it or else you'll be disappointed." Michael muttered, as if to compensate for Leo's earlier shout. "I'll , but first I have to finish my explication. There's one more thing I'm supposed to inform you about."

"More trouble, I suppose." The teenager groaned sulkily, still sore about Michael's betrayal.

"Pretty much, yep. Actually, maybe not that much since it does give some semblance of order in this Holy Grail War. But if the Association heard me say that I'd be crucified so don't ditch me." He digressed, before returning to his main point. "At the same time it became evident that a Holy Grail War was taking place, another bad news came in: a small outside organisation that isn't affiliated with the Mage's Association declared war on us."

"They're morons." Leo flat out stated. "If it was in-fighting between the factions inside the Clock Tower I'd understand, but for some no name organisation to think they could take on the Mage's Association just because... Unless..." Leo came to a realization with a tired sigh and he felt like rubbing his forehead. "Don't tell me..."

"Ding, ding, ding! You've got a right answer! Yep, I wouldn't mention it to begin with if it wasn't related to us. The reason why it's a bad news is because they claim to have gathered Masters and Servants on their side to participate in the Grail War as a whole faction. According to them, they've gathered a whole set of seven Servants. That's how bad it is. Now you can see where I'm going with that, right?"

For all answer, Michael got the heaviest sigh in the world right out of Leo's mouth. The teenage magus was holding his head inhis hands while the most obvious answer appaeared in his head from what Michael told him. At first he had thought that a Grail War of this size with so many participants would simply be the elargest, most chaotic every man for himself. But if what his uncle said is true, then it completely turned the situation around. There's an enemy out there who managed to get their hand on seven Masters and decided to form a whole faction. The fact that they aimed their declaration of war at the Association itself is proof that they plan on its direct participation in the War; and there was only one way the Clock Tower can hope to face them in that case.

"So we're supposed to be fighting on the Mage's Association side." He concluded. "Ugh, just saying it feels like I just puked and some of it is left in my mouth."

"Oh please, drama queen. I know you don't like the Association, but just think of it as fighting on your uncle's side if it's unbearable." Michael tapped Leo's shoulder while giving him an unfazed look. "Well, with that I told you everything you need to know. Ah, wait, just one last piece of information: New Edge Corporation - that's the name of the guys against us - offered to fight the war this way; since there's only seven Servant classes that can be summoned even if there are more Servants, they 'shall summon each of the original seven, and the Mage's Association shall do the same'. In short, it's seven against seven."

"Wow, for separatists they still have the magi's flashy habit of regulating everything for a fair fight, don't they?" Leo thought that was needless and disadvantageous to announce what Servant classes they would have. No, actually wasn't that pretty smart? Thinking about it, New Edge didn't ask that they summon the same Servants, but they precised that it would be each of the seven classes. In other word, it was a roundabout way of making sure the Association would have the same number as them. And on top of that, they also know which Servant the Association will have. Of course the latter can refuse, but then it would lose the same advantage. "Huh, I actually have some respect for whoever came up with that. Anyway, pushing that matter aside, will you tell me why I can't avoid participating? From what I read, it should be possible to give my Command Spells to someone else, and it's not like their out of able mages who'd kill to be a Master."

Leo's arguments were sound and, in the end, terribly true. He wasn't a good magus, because he wasn't doing any effort in that direction. Not only that but he wasn't especially fond of the Association, hence it would make sense for them not to trust someone like him even if he was from an old family. And yet when Leo exposed his logic, Michael simply shook his head and raised three fingers in the air.

"You're not wrong in that you _can_ give your rights as a Master to someone else. However, not only do I think it's not a good idea but I doubt the big guys in charge of it will allow you to drop out. The first reasons for that is," And as he said that he lowered one of his fingers. "You're a good asset to have, at least for their point of view."

"If they think that then they are blind, deaf, and all kind of crippling conditions. I mean, I should be a bad choice to start with, don't you think? I suck as a magus and I don't have much loyalty toward them as far as I remember."

"That's exactly the point, Leo. You may not be the greatest magus, but that's not because you don't have the potential; you _are_ from the Argas family. You're perfectly eligible as a Master. As for your loyalty, they don't want it. This is the Mage's Association, remember? Even in case of crisis like the Holy Grail War there're still going to be people who see it as a competition between factions - there is a lot of prestige in coming out victorious in a Grail War, or in this case to be on the winners' side. And there you are, a capable Master who has no real plan to use this occasion to further your ambitions."

"Pfft!" Leo couldn't hold back a chuckle at the idea of the word 'ambition' being associated with his name. "Not even in a thousand years will I want to do that. There isn't even a point to herald my hypothetical victory in the first place."

"Sorry, but that's another point I have to disagree with you about." For the second time, Michael shook his head in disapproval.

"Is it me or are you awefully eager to disagree with me today? I mean, I can understand the previous times, but here you lost me. You know me! I don't want prestige any more than you do!"

"It's not a matter of whether you want it, but of whether it could help you. That's my second argument. " He lowered another finger. This time however, Michael's seriousness was replaced by softness. "If at least you fight for the Mage's Association survival I think Inheim will let you off the hook a little."

Leo grimaced at the mention of that name, witout even noticing it.

Inheim Argas, Michael's older brother and consequently Leo's biological father.

Now's as good a time as ever to explain the difficult ties within the Argas family: there were two brothers, Inheim and Michael. Because the former was the elder and the heir of the family his relationship with his younger brother had always been delicate, or so Leo had been told. He actually doesn't know that much about the relation his father and his uncle had had in the past, so he could only judge on what little Michael would reveal to him. In any case, Michael moved over to France and had little to no interaction whatsoever with his family.

Then one day, for personal reasons, Inheim asked an unexpected service from Michael: that he look after his son, Leonidas Argas. That was eleven years ago, so counting out the year Leo had spent at the Clock Tower Michael had obliged to his brother's unreasonable request for ten years. Unsurprisingly for anyone who knew about that story, Leo wasn't exactly fond of his father as a result. Michael was his uncle, and yet he had been much more of a father to him than Inheim ever was.

Though, it doesn't change the fact that he _was_ Leo's biological father, and the head of the family by now. He had dragged (figuratively) Leo all the way back to the Clock Tower to have him study there, and even while rarely ever being present physically, he could almost feel his breathing down his neck. Not that he had any right to be disappointed with Leo after what he did, but there were no children protection agency in the Mage's Association. And in this Clock Tower where prestige and social standing possessed a lot of weight, Michael suggested that Leo made an achievement to satisfy Inheim.

"An achievement that could very well cost me my life on the other hand..."

He couldn't forget that fact sadly - and it was one thing to say he should win a Holy Grail War, and another to actually do it. But with flawless timing, Michael lowered his last finger and concluded his demonstration.

"That's my third point actually: your safety, Leo. It's dangerous to be involved in a Holy Grail War, but even moreso when you're not a Master."

"What do you mean by that exactly? How can I get involved if I'm not a Master?"

"By being my nephew." The way Michael pronounced those four words, it was as if that obvious fact was ominous. "Listen, Leo. Even if you don't take part in it, I will for sure. I have my own reasons after all. But that means you can be used an a hostage, and a pretty efficient one at that. But if you have your own Servant to defend you...well, that would honetsly remove a weight off my mind."

Now that was an argument that hit pretty close to home. If his uncle said he had his own reason to participate, then Leo highly doubted he could persuade him of dropping out of his role as Master. And actually it wasn't as though Leo couldn't understand how Michael felt; he was a normal person - kinda -, of course he also felt really bad at the idea that the one he looks up to like a father was risking his life, even if he didn't openly show it. Maybe that was even worse for Michael in this case since he wouldn't be able to help him. That was why, Leo didn't retort anything this time and silently accepted the fact that it would be safer to be a Master.

Yet at the same time, he realized he wasn't the only one affected by Michael's concern.

"Oncle Michael, what about Maria then?" He inquired. "I'm a Master so I'll be alright...sort of...I guess...anyway, Maria won't have that!"

Maria, full name Maria Ringhan Argas (she wasn't spared either), was Michael's daughter and Leo's cousin. But just like Michael was a father to him, Maria was like an older sister with whom he had lived the majority of his life. Needless to say she was an extremely important person to him, yet Leo only now understood what kind of danger she was in. Talk about a little brother, Leo thought to himself.

As for Michael, his expression suddenly did a full 180° as a huge grin flashed on his face.

"What do you think, of course I didn't neglect my own daughter! And guess what, she's coming over to London to stay with us! No better way to protect her than by having her by our side, am I right?!"

Hearing this sudden announcement, Leo also felt his mood shoot up like a firework.

"Maria's coming over?! For real?! See, you can do things right when you try!"

"Wait a second, why are you more happy about your seeing your cousin than being reunited with your dear uncle, you little brat!" A pathetic lamentation resounded as Leo was made prisoner by a fearful foe once again. "What kind of favoritism is this!"

"What favoritism, you old geezer?! Ouch! You only brought bad news with you, not to mention you'll make me bald- Ouch Ow! I'll tell Maria you've been mistreating me!"

"Then I'll tell her you've become a delinquent who has no respect for his caretakers!"

"What kind of threat is that, huh?! Ouch, just st- Ow!"

And that way they reached the Clock Tower, attracting attention in the most embarassing way Leo could have ever thought of.

* * *

Michael accompanied Leo through the hallways of the Clock Tower the teenager knew all too well. But eventually they ended up turning around a corner Leo would usually ignore, and he was now being guided by his uncle throughout a network of corridors and richely decorated aisles students like him wouldn't wander around. Of course it didn't look any different from the rest of the building, but he had nonetheless the impression of being led around in a foreign country. It was a bit unnerving yet exciting at the same time.

All the while Michael kept on explaining their situation so far.

"The Mage's Association has already assembled seven Masters; most of them were scouted at least a week ago actually."

"Oh? What kind of people are they? It might actually be hard to get along with them if they're anything like my lecturers." Leo stretched his arms while saying that - a maneurism used when he wanted to calm his nervousness.

Even if he had acted detached up until now, he couldn't help feeling some anxiety when doing things that weren't part of his daily life. And the issue he raised was pretty serious actually: the Masters of Red (Michael told him that's how they were called) were supposed to work together to face the Masters of Black (New Edge's Masters). However Leo didn't know if it would work out. Normally he contented himself to ignore the other magi's behavior, so even if the other Masters wanted to employ magus-like tactics he didn't care. However if he had to be a part of it he wouldn't find it in him to go along with their shenanigans.

"Err, how should I say..." Michael hesitated quite a bit before answering. Though thanks to that alone Leo had hope; if his fears were correct then Michael would have replied immediatly. "...They're a weird bunch to be honest. Actually, _we're_ a weird bunch. I don't mean that they're a bunch of weirdoes, okay? Only that it's a rather unexpected gathering considering we're the Mage's Association's representants."

"That sounds pretty damn ominous when you put it like that! Anyway, that doesn't answer my worries: do you think they're the kind of people I'd get in a fight with?"

"..." Once again, Michael took some time before replying, though less than before. "I think you should be fine. For starters, it seems there's an acquaintance of yours among them, Lancer's Master. Hmm, what was their name again? Well, not that it matters since you'll see them yourself soon enough. As for the rest, most of them aren't high class magi. In fact, only one of us is an accomplished magus. I haven't talked with them much for now, so I can't tell you about their personalities." Michael shrugged. "But that's the magic of meeting new people, right Leo?!"

"I only hope it will be magic and not a curse..." Leo couldn't help but grumble. "So basically I'm the last one to join the fray?"

"Exactly. Not that we were snobbing you my good sir, but your Catalyst took more time to arrive so I figured there was no need to bother you until then."

"My Catalyst?" The term ringed a bell inside Leo's memories. He was sure he read something along those lines in the library. "As in, an artifact to summon a Servant in particular?"

"Bingo! We finally got yours, so today you'll summon your own Servant. Actually, that's the whole reason I wanted to see you today."

"I don't even get to choose who I wanna try summoning?! Talk about a bummer..." Leo pouted.

Of course it was a serious matter, but in his teenage boy imagination the idea of summoning a hero of past times sounded pretty exciting in the end. So he couldn't be blamed for fantasizing a little about it.

"Hahaha! Sorry to disappoint you, but since the stakes are high this time the Association wants to put the odds in their favor as much as possible. They provided everyone with a catalyst to summon powerful Servants; as expected of the Mage's Association, they managed to get their hands on rare artifacts at a staggering speed... Come on, don't sulk in a corner! You get to summon Saber of all Servants!"

Saber, a. k. a. the Servant generally considered to be the strongest out of all seven because it had the best base container, and also because the heroes fit to be summoned in this class were for the most part skillful warriors. True, having the privilege to summon it didn't sound half bad, though that wasn't what Leo was pouting about to begin with.

"Beggers can't be choosers I guess." He decided it best to shrug his petty disappointment aside. "Wait, why am I moping about something I didn't want to go along with?!"

"Because you're an idiot, that's why."

"Ugh, you're blatantly insulting me and yet I don't feel like I can deny it this time. But it's normal, isn't it? I mean, even if it's dangerous, it sounds so cool..." At this point, Leo was pretty much muttering to himself sorrowfully. "...Wait, does that mean you've already summoned your Servant, Oncle Michael?! Where are they, I wanna see them!"

"Muhahaha! Yes, that's good, be excited! Marvel and beho-"

"You suck at sounding like a grand villain."

"...shutupandletmefinishalready- I mean, marvel and behold, he's been with us this entire time!"

And as he said this with much useless and exaggerated fanfare, Michael struck a pose he wanted to look cool but actually felt ridiculous to Leo. But before the latter could make any comment about it, his attention was enraptured by the sudden apparition of someone next to his uncle: a young man that seemed to be about Leo's age materialized out of thin air, striking a mirrored version of Michael's pose. He was slightly taller than Leo, and his build was noticeably bulkier, but without looking like a mass of muscle. The first part of him to catch Leo's eye were the golden hair reaching down his neck. Not blond but truly golden as though it was made of the real thing, to the pont where they glittered at the sunlight. Next were his eyes: a reddish color reminiscent of the flame of a matchstick. They would have looked cooler could had he been displaying a straight face, but with his proud puppy expression, especially in this pose, was way too comic.

"Woooaaaah, that was awesome! Except for your pose. You look like a pair of idiots. But that moment when you just appeared out of nowhere...!"

"Hey, who are you calling an idiot?!" Michael growled, but not without blushing a little. "We've practiced this for hours just for your eyes to behold!"

Strangely, that fact felt insulting. Michael stubbornely stayed in place without budging just to piss off Leo, but his Servant couldn't bear with the shame and resumed a normal stance.

"I knew it was a bad idea..." He groaned, glarring daggers at his Master, before turning to Leo with an amiable smile. "Sorry, that wasn't a good introduction for a hero. In any case, nice to meet you! I'm Rider, Rider of Red!" He presented himself with a voice brimming with energy as he held out his hand toward Leo, who accepted it with the relief due to a normal greeting.

And now that Rider stood normally on his feet, Leo was able to have a better look at his whole get-up rom head to toe: the Heroic Spirit was wearing a white chiton that didn't go any lower than his thighs while a bright red chlamys covered half his body like a cape. All in all, it was pretty easy to guess from his clothing that he was a hero from Ancient Greece, though which one wasn't exactly as obvious. When Leo accepted the hand held out by Rider, he noticed yet another peculiar fact about the Servant's body: his skin was shining slightly but not so much that he could have noticed it without getting closer. Actually, after taking a better look, it wasn't so much that it was shining that his skin was covered on something that reflected light to a certain extent.

He wasn't going to ask about it though - that could be rude, and Leo himself wasn't fond of indiscretion.

"Thank you for putting up with my uncle."

"Why is that supposed to mean?!"

"Nah, it's fine. He's dumb but harmless (I think)."

"Et tu, Rider?!" Michael cried teary-eyed as he realized he was without ally in this ruthless world. "Fine then! Disappear, you ungrateful brat!"

Apparently the order was directed at Rider who obliged but not without snickering.

"Wow, even though I've already seen him appearing out of nowhere, seeing him disappear is just as awesome...!" Leo couldn't help whistling with admiration. "Now I'm looking forward summoning my Servant as well!"

"Yeah, yeah, be happy. Mrgrgr..." Michael walked ahead with a sulking face. "Now come this way, disrespectful nephew of mine. Mrgrgr..."

Seeing his uncle grumpy never failed to entertain him, especially since he knew Michael was actually exaggerating. He was prone to fool around and make jokes, but he was still an adult who had raised two kids without fail. Maria and Leo knew they wouldn't trade him for anyone else in the world (except when he's the one doing the teasing - he could be very vengeful at times). Being able to mess around together felt all the more invigorating after this painfully long year spent at the Clock Tower with people who couldn't apreciate a joke.

Actually, to be true, there was someone here whom Leo used to tease like he did with Michael, though that wasn't quite the same.

"Why do we have to venture so far into the Clock Tower just to take my Catalyst, seriously?" Leo wasn't wrong: they had been walking for a while. In fact he wouldn't be surprised if he was told they were walking in circles. "Even magi have a delivery service so why not use that instead..."

"Can't be helped, we needed to make sure it was the real deal first. Wouldn't want to use a fake Catalyst and summon a weak Servant, would we? Most Catalyst are at least centuries old so ascerting their genuineness isn't exactly easy. And by the way, _I_ am going to go take your Catalyst. You'll just wait for me in a room."

"Huh?! No fair! Why can't I pick up my own stuff?!"

"That's what you get for picking on me! Wait- attacking me won't change anything to it!" Michael struggled against a pitbull-Leo trying to bite off his nose. "You have something more important to take care of while I'm off anyway!"

"Such as?"

"Making acquaintance with your teammates, what else?" Michael stated firmly and ponted his finger at the door that was a dozen of meters in front of them. "Most of them should be here so don't be shy and go say hi. And stop trying to bite me! Sit!"

"You're abandoning me in the middle of a danger zone!"

"This is a danger zone you'll have to face eventually, so instead of yapping you better steel your mind and go make friends!"

Seeing their argument was leading nowhere, and having had enough of Leo's stubborness, Michael eventually kicked his nephew toward the door and left him stranded here like an abandoned puppy. Leo didn't have the time to turn around that his uncle's figure turned around a corner and disappeared from sight. For an instant he was tempted to run after him and grab him by the leg, but he immediatly had to reconsider once he realized he didn't even know the layout of this place; if he did anything reckless right now, he might actually end up in a genuine danger zone. Thus, crying and cursing, Leo had no choice but to stand in front of the door and prepare himself mentally for the ordeal to come.

A moment ago he had played it off as something he could handle because he thought he'd have Michael by his side. But the truth was, he had a dreadfully bad premonition at the mere thought of walking into that room and meeting the rest of the Masters of Red. He wasn't especially shy around people, but he was ready to bet a few jewels that all of them would be Weirdoes with a capital W.

(Thinking back on it, didn't Oncle Michael say there was someone I know?)

Not that it was much help actually. Just because he knew people around the Clock Tower didn't necessarily mean he got along with them! In fact, he couldn't think of anyone whom hed be close to around here, so none of them were worth having his uncle around.

"Heaven or Hell, here I go...!" After taking a deep inspiration, Leo finally moved his hand toward the handle of the door and opened it wide...

"Die, Leonidas Argaaaaaaaaaaaaaas!"

And he was greeted by a warcry.

The door had scarcely had the time to swing open that the threatening roar split open Leo's ears, and something approached his body at a dangerous speed. The boy didn't even have the time to understand what was going on; only because his aggressor gave that shout first was his body able to react in time. His hands moved before his eyes could acknowledge something was happening: almost miraculously, his palms were fast enough and clasped around the elongated object-!

He almost had a heart attack, but he was still alive! Yay!

His reaction toward the person who just attempted to his life, on the other hand, didn't exactly reflect his relief of not having a concussion.

"What the hell are you thinking, you moron! I'm not kidding, I could really have been seriously injured this time, Hatsuyo!"

Surprisingly, or rather unsurprisingly in his case, he knew the identity of his would-be murderer as well as the weapon of the crime. In hindsight, Leo should have immediatly guessed who Michael was reffering to, since there was only one person he knew who could cause more of a headache than the rest of the students combined. And knowing his luck, of course he would end up with her!

"That was the point obviously." The girl who had swung an actual _sheathed katana_ down on his face spoke coldly, cruely even. "By the way, how many times have I told you not to address me on a first name basis already? Call me Toriyama, Toriyama!" As if to highlight her demand, Hatsuyo Toriyama put even more power into their already one-sided strength contest.

She was Hatsuyo Toriyama or, as she would say it, Toriyama Hatsuyo. This girl with waist-long chestnut hair wearing the Mage's Association's uniform was undoubtly one of Leo's fellow students here in the Mage's Association, probably the reason why Michael had called her an 'acquaintance'. Had he known better however, he would probably have employed the term 'best enemy', given how unique their relationship was.

Even though she was technically an apprentice magus just like Leo was, she usually only gave off the impression of someone with anger management problems to whom someone had the brilliant idea to give a sword. She was an oddball even by the Association's standarts, but to explain this one had to start from the beginning: Hatsuyo was from a Japanese magus family which merged with a samurai family at some point despite the obvious difference in mentalities. That was the reason why she walked around swinging her family unfriendly toy around. And that might also explain why she just didn't have the making of a magus: not only did she not have the personality, but Hatsuyo was horrible when it came to magecraft. Leo had witnessed her failed attempts countless times, and laughed at them countless times. But that was only part of why she was an outcast; at the end of the day, she's far from being the only one who had trouble casting a spell.

The problem was much more deep-rooted than that: she was irascible. Of course, the persistent racism against Asian people around the Clock Tower surely had its part in making her devastatedly unpopular, but even then Hatsuyo had an unparalleled talent for making enemies. She didn't even had to make a single effort for people to antagonize her: she was already antagonizing them! Not an ounce of politeness, never the shadow of a smile on her face and always ready to pounce like an enraged gnu.

That was Hatsuyo Toriyama. And probably the closest thing Leo had to a friend, ironically. He would never call her that nonetheless, first because it would earn him more than a concussion and second because even he didn't feel like it would be right to use that word. Still, if his compatibility with her was zero, his with the other students and lecturers was minus one, so she was by far the person he got along with the best. And that was saying something.

He used to think maybe that was because, in spite of all her hardheadedness, she ultimately remained true to herself (a quality he could admire).

But the truth was more along those lines: Leo was an uncooperative youth who abhorred everything related to magi, and Hatsuyo did so little efforts to fit in that people wondered why she even bothered to put on the uniform. They were both outcasts in different ways, and that was enough reason for Leo to hang out with her and annoy the hell out of her, to which she would respond with violence. He was annoying to her and she was annoying to him. It was an unhealthy relationship if anything, but it was the only person with whom he could have such earnest interactions, and it had become almost as enjoyable as his tomfooleries with Michael.

Alas, unlike Michael Hatsuyo's retaliations were much less pretty. Leo's current predicament made that point quite clear.

"I get it, you don't like me. Can you let go now, please?! My hands are slipping!" He cried out desperately.

He was actually quite lucky she hadn't unsheathed her sword, or else he wouldn't even have had the time to react. In the first place, he had only been able to catch it because he was used to Hatsuyo's shenanigans, especially those were she tries to hit him with her scabbard. How many times did he have to dodge a sudden strike, or to catch it bare-handed like he did now when he could step back fast enough.

"I won't! I won't feel satisfied before I crush that repugnant face of yours for what you've done!"

"But what did I do to you this time!?" Leo was being honest here. He pestered her so many times he didn't know which one she was taking revanche for. In fact, if she listed everything he had done right here and then he couldn't deny she had good reasons to come after him.

"..." But to his surprise, instead of answering immediatly, Hatsuyo seemed to hesitate for a second. "P-plenty of reasons! Actually, I shouldn't even need a reason to cut you down!"

"...You actually can't remember, can you? Damn, that's what annoys me about you. I know you're just asking to use violence but you could at least pretend you have a reso- Ghhhhh!" As a punishment for running his mouth, Hatsuyo applied more weight on her sword. Just how much strength did she have?! Leo had to use his whole body and his triceps were about to give in at any moment, while she only seemed to using her arms. "Pl-please, Mrs. Hatsuyo can you let it slide this time? I swear I won't do it again!"

"That's what you say each time, you dirty liar!" She saw right through his white lie. Maybe he should come up with something different next time. "And what did I just say about calling my name?! It doesn't look like you want to be forgiven to me!"

That was mainly because she also refused to call him 'Leo' instead of his full name. Of course she wouldn't accept that as an excuse, so Leo had to come up with something and quick. But while he was busy thinking and sweating, someone's laughing voice resounded. Leo hadn't noticed until now because he had his hands full with an unreasonnable beast, but there were indeed other people in the rooms. More notable, behind Hatsuyo who stubbornly blocked the entrance was a grown Asian man leaning leisurely against the wall and laughing at them as though he was watching a comedy duo.

This one was unmistakably a Servant, Leo knew at a single glance.

That was because, just like Rider of Red whom he had met earlier, this man's mere appearance set him aside from your everyday person by a margin: he was noticeably taller than Leo and Hatsuyo, though not so much that it felt unnatural, and for clothes he was wearing a black and golden kimono that was clearly made of high quality fabric. But it was more than that; if Leo had to put it in words, he had a unique presence. Everything about him, from his easy-going position to the smirk adorning his cheeks, screamed self-assurance to the point it was amazing. On the other hand, his snickering clearly directed at them wasn't exactly pleasant, especially since Leo would rather he helped him out.

"So that's the Leonidas Argas I heard about." He pushed himself off the wall to come closer to Leo and inspect him with interest in his eyes. " I can't say you're a boring fellow, but I expected you to have a stringer build for someone who hangs around my Master. Can you even fight with a thin body like this?"

Saying that, he gave a light tap on Leo's shoulder - a tap so powerful Leo thought he might as well have punched him.

"Kh! Did everyone decide to hurt me as much as physically possible today?!" Not that anyone in this room would understand or even care to listen to his lament. Nonetheless, this Servant's sudden apparition might just turn out to be a blessing. "Hey, you her Servant, aren't you?! Can't you do something to calm her down?!"

"Eh? No way, why would I ever do that?" The man replied flatly while raising his eyebrow, as though it really was a puzzling demand.

Leo already wasn't in a position where he could be calm, but now all of this was just gratting his nerves.

"Because I'm supposed to be your ally! Aren't you supposed to _not_ harm someone who's on your side!"

"By the way, I didn't present myself, did I?"

"Now's not the moment...! Ugh...I-I think I going to break...!"

But his complaint fell on deaf ears, as the unknown Servant superbly ignored Leo to clear his throat like an actor before a rehearsal.

"I am the great Lancer of Red!...and that's about what I'm actually allowed to say, sorry!" Lancer shrugged with an expession devoid of seriousness, as if saying ' _Isn't that sad?_ '. "Well, all you need to know is that I am first and foremost faithful to my lord. If my Master needs to clear her name and her honor with you, ally or not..." The Servant raised his thumb as a mockery of an encouragement. "Tough it up, kid!"

(F*ck yooooooouuu!)

And that was the very moment Leo's body gave out under the tyrannical pressure of the demonic Hatsuyo, _a. k. a._ he was ruthlessly crushed and could only sprawl on the ground. He layed there, defeated and as defenseless as a newborn chick before the enemy that was looking down on him with both satisfaction and irritation. He was already exhausted and ashamed, what more could she take from him? For all answer, Hastuyo stradled his chest and cracked her knuckles.

"You can't use your cowardly tricks to escape this time. I can finally let off some stea- I mean, clear the dishonor you've inflicted on me!"

"Th-that was the real reason why you ambushed me...?! I-I call time out! Judge!"

"There ain't no judge here."

What ensued was a world of pain.

Well, truth be told it wasn't _that_ bad, but Leo's body was gonna be sore for a couple day after that. Once Hatsuyo was done roughing him up, which was quite fast all things considered, Leo dragged himself over one of the armchairs lined up in the room, and slouched into it with a pained groan. Despite all the fanfare less than ten minutes ago, Hatsuyo was now positively ignoring Leo and went to lean against a corner much like Lancer did. It was all good as far as Leo was concerned since that let him catch a break; interacting with Hatsuyo was fun in its own way, but hell if it wasn't tiring. Sadly, Lancer wasn't of the same opinion and came to sit next to Leo.

"Ugh, what do you want?" Was the only thing that could come out of Leo's mouth, anything less would have betrayed his annoyance.

"Hahaha! You're actually pretty entertaining to watch as a meat-bag, kiddo!" But Lancer's shit-eating grin could never be dented, quite the contrary. "I just came to consol you before you drown in your tears~."

"I'm not cry as far as I know. Also it would have been a better consolation if you acually helped me back then!"

"I told you didn't I? I won't do anything that goes against my Master's will, even if it kills me!"

"But what if it kills _me_?! You'll be losing a Master that way!"

"Meh, who cares?" Lancer shrugged in an unconcerned fashion. "Even if you kick the bucket, I don't mind fighting this whole war on my own. Yeah, that's actually be a pretty good challenge!"

Was he bragging? Lancer had that strange way of speaking that made him sound both like a show-off and like a capable person. At any rate, he was definitely bragging, wasn't he? As could be expected, a troublesome person like Hatsuyo would summon an equally as troublesome Servant, although both were hard to deal with in a different way. The Master was a secluded, unsociable girl while Lancer was...larger than life, was the first-sight impression Leo had.

"Ah, by the way, thank you for being my Master's sand bag, Leonidas!"

"Please, just call me Leo. I can do without another public shaming today...And you do realize that what you say sounds like an insult, right?!"

"But I mean it: thank you or being Master's punching bag, Leo! It's not good to be always tensed up but the child doesn't understand that yet~."

Not really surprising of a fact if Lancer was comparing her to him. The two were like day and night in term of personality with Lancer being so easy-going and carefree-looking that it was unbelievable to think he was supposed to be some grand warrior. And anyway; Hatsuyo, relaxing? Trying to imagine what the crazy swordman would look like when relaxed, Leo hit a dead end, ' _404 not found_ '. He couldn't seem to imagine it, and it probably didn't exist: Hastuyo was Hatsuyo, nothing less, nothing more. That was what made being with her refreshing.

"If it's only about unwinding on somebody, why couldn't she do it on you, Lancer? If I remember right normal attacks should barely tickle a Servant."

"That's the problem! There ain't nothing like beating up someone who feels it and see them grovel on the floor, nahahahaha!"

Or maybe he was just a psycho after all. There must have been a love of violence connecting Hatsuyo with her Servant, that had to be why he was summoned.

"In fact, I think you're her favorite meat-shield: you should have seen how she was waiting for you to stop fighting with that man outside, waiting for the right moment when you open the door!"

"Wait...you could hear use from insiiiide?!" Leo wanted to hide himself in a hole. His banters with Michael were diverting, but only for them to enjoy. I anyone was to learn of it, or worse witness it directly, he would die of shame for sure.

"Yep. She heard it all, and I saw it all! You're pretty darn entertaining all the time, aren't ya!"

And right now, he was positively dying.

"Which reminds me, you're here to mett with the other Masters, right? That man definitely said something about that." ' _That man_ ' was probably reffering to Michael. "If that' sthe case, what are you sitting here for? Go greet the little one over there!"

When Leo followed Lancer's finger with his eyes and looked at the other side of the waiting room, he felt a chill run down his spine: there was indeed someone here whom he had absolutely not noticed until Lancer had pointed them out. That would be because, unlike Hatsuyo who would grab attention just by being there, the person in question was a small child discreet like like a kitten.

Indeed, a cherubic little girl with blond wavy hair cascading down her back was seated in another armchair. Yet something must have been wrong for she seemed queasy and was twitching anxiously on her seat. That was understandable considering the sad display she had just beheld first-hand, front row, V. I. P. seat. The frightened animal look she had when glancing over Hatsuyo and the pitying look she gave to Leo only confirmed that guess.

As to why Leo was horrified when he spotted her...

"She...definitely heard me fight with Oncle Michael, didn't she? And just now too... Argh, that pitying look hurts, especially from a child..." Leo was lost in such pointless thoughts when suddenly what Lancer said hit him like a cold shower. "...Wait...did you just say Master?...That little girl over here is a Master?!"

"..."

Lancer didn't reply. He was looking aside, but his expression must have clouded because Leo couldn't feel the same carefree vibe from him anymore. Same went for Hatsuyo actually; she didn't raise her voice and she didn't look his way either, but Leo had learned the difference between a scorning silence and a heavy one. Was this little girl here of her own will? Leo couldn't believe it. Did Michael kow about this? If he did he was probably furious about it. In any case, Leo felt compelled to greet her - that was the very least he could do to put her at ease.

But when he stood up and went to salute her...

"Err,... h-hello there...! My name is Leo, what about yo- Whoa!"

Leo should have known from the way she was looking at him, he was actually scaring her just as much as Hatsuyo did. He had hardly presented himself that she escaped from her armchair with the agility of a squirrel and ran away. Leo followed her with his eyes and was already stammering an apology when he stopped in his track: he made the discovery of a fifth person in this room. The little girl hadn't just ran off in a random direction, instead she went and sought protection behind the legs of a man who had also evaded Leo's awareness.

It wasn't like the girl who just really blended well in the background - this person had no presence, and although he should have been able to spot him earlier Leo hadn't been able to tell him apart from the room itself. Even now that he had him in sight, he felt really little presence from this man.

"...A Servant? Right, you must be a Servant! That's why I didn't see you before! Ah- sorry, I shouldn't be saying that." Leo cursed his uncontrolable tongue, but the man didn't seem to mind at all.

"Don't worry." His face when he said that only spoke of kindness, and the tone he employed was soft. "It's not surprising that you couldn't feel my presence before, since that's my Servant class' particularity! I am Assassin of Red, pleased to meet you Leo."

Assassin's polite smile and the care he had put in calling Leo by his nickname instantly won the teenager's heart. Undoubtly this man was a knowledgable gentleman!

In fact he looked like one: his get up looked aristocratic at first sight, and his countenance was reminding of those rich kids Leo could see everyday in his environment. The difference here is that instead of feeling exaggerated, Assassin's composure felt genuine and almost reassuring. Overall, the Servant exuded an aura of niceness that would make anybody trust him without condition.

"By the way," Assassin gave Leo an apolegetic look. "sorry for not intervening earlier; it looked like a personal matter between you two so I wasn't sure if it was my place to interrupt."

"...this is an excuse for not helping me and yet it's probably the nicest thing somebody told me today..."

Leo felt like crying. But he was digressing; he was here because of the little girl peeking from behind the Servant's back. It seemed like the best way to get information was to ask the Servant directly.

"Excuse me, but is this girl your Master?" He asked hesitantly, to which Assassin shook his head lightly.

"Not at all: this young maiden here is the Master of Archer of Red, but the latter isn't here at the moment. I volunteered to look after her though, so I guess it makes me her caretaker."

"Hm? But then where is your Master, Assassin? Don't tell me I can't see them either!" If that was the case Leo was considering buying a pair of glasses.

"Ahaha, that would be an interesting thing!" Thankfully, the Servant laughed it off as a joke. "My Master also has to look after someone for the moment. I could stay with him, but I'd rather leave him alone for now. Ah, by the way the person he's with at the moment is Berserker's Master."

"I see. Actually no, I don't really understand, but isn't everyone gonna come here eventually? I can meet them then, can't I?"

Hearing Leo's question, a hint of uneasiness appeared in Assassin's gentle expression. Something was visibly troubling him, although Leo didn't have a clue about what that could be. Assassin nonetheless answered Leo's query, albeit in a cryptic way.

"You'll probably meet them later but...for now let's just say that she's not-"

 _CLAC!_

Whatever Assassin was about to say, he was interrupted by the sudden opening of the waiting room's door, and his attention shifted to whomever had entered the room. Leo also reacted to it, expecting it to be Michael returning with his Catalyst, but he was proven wrong when two unknown voices rose at the same time.

"Lily, we're back!" An energetic woman's voice.

"Milady, we have returned." And a more reserved male voice.

Turning around, Leo saw no less than four people entering the room at once, and all four of them had an eye-catching appearance to say the least. The first two to walk into the room, whom he could guess to be the same person who spoke just now, were a an adolescent boy who looked to be around the same age as Leo and a bronze-skinned woman waving vigorously in their direction.

The boy was wearing what was clearly servant clothes; his get up reminded Leo of those old times butler, an image clashing with the boy's youthfulness. His dark blue bangs were hiding the right side of his face almost down to the chin, giving him a slight mysterious air. The person walking beside him, however, was the complete opposite: it was a woman with long red copper hair who seemed to have barely hit adulthood. The weird part was her outfit: she was walking barefooted and the only piece of clothe she worn one her lower body was some kind of exotic miniskirt made of colorful bird feathers. On the other hand, her upper body was wrapped in a pink, flashy, dolphin-patterned modern t-shirt which clearly wasn't part of her Servant outfit and strongly contrasted with the exotic feeling she was supposed to give. As a result she was completely out of place in the dignified Clock Tower, in more than one way.

"Archer, Laurent!" The next person to react was the little girl herself; she swiftly jumped out of her hiding place behind Assassin and dashed toward the newcomers to hide once again, this time behind the servant boy.

"Mh? What is the matter young mistress? You seem distressed, did something happen? Hm?" The butler, probably Laurent, was inquiring about the little girl's state when the latter peeked out from behind his legs and pointed her small finger at Leo. "Oh, I see. Has this ruffian done anything to you, Milady?"

Laurent's expression did a 180 degree corner and twisted into the mother of all death glares, directed right at Leo as though the latter had comitted a crime against humanity.

"Well did'ya, punk?"

Even the way his spoke changed all of sudden!

His gaze was filled with so much hatred it could burn, and he moved forward with the clear intent to teach Leo a lesson with his bare hands. Which Leo couldn't have obviously: he had already had more than his fill of beating with Hatsuyo (who, speaking of which, was watching the development with interest). Moreover, it didn't look like that Laurent person was someone he could reason; Leo was sure of that simply from seeing his sudden change of mood. Therefore Leo only had two choices left: running or fighting back. Now, the butler didn't look all that strong - he was pretty thin even - but he wasn't ready to bet on that.

Thankfully, before he had to make that choice Leo was saved by the only person in this room who wasn't after his life or his sanity: Assassin. The gentleman Servant stepped forward and put his hand on Leo's shoulder amicably, as if showing protection.

"Calm down Laurent, the poor boy didn't do anything worth punishing him for." The Servant of Assassination testified with a diplomatic smile. "Ladylee is just being nervous."

Was that really enough to quell the murderous intent Leo was feeling? Apparently yes.

"Ah, is that so?" Just as fast as he had flipped his murder switch on, Laurent reverted back to his composed and professional-looking self. "Milady, I already told you not to be a spoiled child. Come on, greet this person as you were taught."

Being admonished by who seemed to be her guardian, the little girl looked dejected but complied. She stopped hiding behind Laurent and stepped forward to stand in front Leo, and proceeded to bow in an old-fashioned way - the one where she had to lift the corners of her skirt.

"N-nice to meet you! I am Ladylee Vasilia, Mashter- no, Master of Archer! Delighted to make to make you acquin- acquaintance!"

She stuttered but actually managed to make her presentation to the end, before turning away and resuming her hide-and-seek occupation. Better than nothing. In any case, since she actually presented herself this time Leo probably had to do the same, with less stuttering.

"Hrm, well, nice to meet you too? I'm Leo Argas and in about fifteen minutes I'll be the Master of Saber of Red so... let's work together everyone?" Rhetoric wasn't his cup of tea, so he wasn't sure if that was the best approach. The looks of approval on his teammates' face (bared Hatsuyo) nonetheless suggested that the feeling got across.

At the same time, the exotic-looking young woman standing beside Laurent and Ladylee reacted with as much energy as she appeared to be containing.

"Eh, you're Saber's Master?! But you're just a kid!" That was probably an insult considering the huge smile plastered on her visage. Then again, Leo could never be sure with excentic people like her.

"Archer, let me remind you that milady and I are also children according to your standards." Laurent commented with displeasure directed at the Servant. "You should not judge him hastily."

(Says the guy who almost bludgeoned me to death without a proper conversation.) Was what Leo wouldn't dare to say out loud.

"I would even dare say there are mostly young'uns here." Another voice rose from behind the trio, belonging to one of the other two persons to have entred the room. " It almost makes me feel lonely! Ohoho!"

The hearty laugh came from an elderly man who could be in his seventies as well as his eighties - just as he had said, his old age made no doubt. Even then one could tell his was filled to the brim with energy in a way. He had a serene impression to himself, free of any negative emotion. His attire was completely anachronistic though, much like Assassin's was: a black redingote accompanied by a top hat and a beautiful wooden cane, the complete costume of the XIXth century gentleman. It was a bit mean to think that, but his clothes looked even older than he was. Or was he just as old? Leo had heard these rumors amongst students about magi who stopped their aging to live longer.

"Hm? Ah, I guess it is my turn to come forth! Very well, my name is Charles Pendleton, and I am partnered with our faction's Caster. That would be this big fellow right there!" He announced merrily, slapping the back of the massive man next to himself.

Massive was the word, for if Caster of Red didn't reach teh two meters in height he truly gave the feeling of being a statue: his body was as muscular as those 80's superheroes, and he had a cerulean blue beard growing so wide and so low it only seemed to increase his volume as a whole. Other than that, he was wearing what Leo believed was a blacksmith's apron and large leather gloves, hinting at his profession.

As for his personality, he wasn't very polite as he didn't even try to imitate his Master, instead letting his vermillion gaze wander around the room pensively.

"Don't mind his manners too much, he's a grumpy old man! Ohoho~!"

"Wow, Oncle Michael wasn't kidding, was he?" Leo wispered to himself while watching Charles' energetic demeanor. "We truly are a weird bunch."

A recalcitrant magus, his goofy uncle, a samurai with anger management issues, a kid and an ederly man. At the moment, he could only wonder what Assassin's and Berserker's Masters were like.

* * *

How did Leanne ever end up in this situation?

For a long time she had held the belief that only unique people would find themselves in unique situations. People with talent, men with great ambitions and women with their own philosiphy of life. In other words, people unlike her: she was just a brooding university teacher, not someone who would go out of her way to seek adventure or mingle in other people's business. And yet, it truly felt as though fate was going out of _its_ way to make life harder for her whenever it could.

The woman known as Leanne Stormbird was currently sitting inside a cafe in London, drinking some cofee to take a breath of fresh air - or so it should have been. Considering on her week ends she would usually stay at home and be depressed, stepping outside for a change should have been refreshing, but not today, not in her situation. The whole cafe was filled with discomfort, and every customers were taking uneasy glances at her, even children. It wasn't because of Leanne herself, she was a perfectly normal person both on the outside and on the inside. Slightly neglected red hair, average height and everyday civilian clothes; nothing about her could have attracted the curiosity of everyone in the viscinity.

Leanne simply had the unfortune of being accompanied with the strangest people.

Across the table she was seated at, a young man that looked to be a handful of years younger than her was sitting and sipping coffee like she was. And if his behavior wasn't out of the ordinary - he didn't so much aside from driking and speaking a few words every so often in a soft voice - his outward appearance stuck out like a sore thumb in a public place. To put it simply, he looked like some corpse woke up at the morgue and walked away freely: his skin was a cadaveric white, so much that he could pass off as a doll if he just sat behind a shop window and stopped moving entirely. But there was more to it: his face was covering in sewing track. During Halloween Leanne would sometimes see a child or two disguised as Frankenstein's Monster and draw those all over their face. It was exactly the same here, except those were real beyond doubt.

Had it been a costumed party he would have been praised for the efforts that went into his disguise. It was no disguise unfortunately, and what was a rather handsome face now had an eerie feeling to it. Leanne herself didn't feel too uncomfortable with his looks, but it was a part of human nature to be intrigued by teh unusual, and it had earned them dubious gazes everywhere they went.

"If you don't feel at ease we don't have to stay here." REVOC (that was his name apparently) whispered politely, unoblivious to the overall atmosphere and Lenne's own feelings.

Leanne's heart was telling her to take him up on his offer, but she shook her headly weakly.

"No need, d-don't worry. Let's just finish and go back..."

At least REVOC was considerate of her, unlike the people before him. Yes, the people who came for her after she received those red tattos on the back of her hand.

They called themselves magi, people capable of using thaumaturgy and lived in a secret society of their own. At first Leanne had thought they were cultists or lunatics - all the more so since they came to her in the middle of the night - and she had considered calling the police. In hindsight that would probably just have proven useless. Everything they told her about sounded too crazy to believe, until they demonstrated it in the most spectacular way: the summoning of her Servant.

Against all reason and logic they made her summon the ghost of a hero from ancient times, a giant of a man wearing a white tunic severely burnt in several places and seven long, hirsute braids falling down his huge back. More frightening was his face; there was no sanity in his eyes, they were clouded with anger and nothing else. In place of speech, anything coming out of his mouth were beastly roars and growls. In the end, this mountain of muscles was closer to an actual wild animal than a human being.

That was because he was Berserker, the Servant of Madness. And Leanne was his Master, supposed to fight in a shady war she knew nothing about for people who were more than strangers. REVOC was the Master fo Assassin of Red, from what he told her.

And there was the second reason why this otherwise peaceful cafe had lost any of the serene charm it was supposed to have: Berserker was here with them. Oh, of course he was just walking down the street alongside them in the flesh; if that was the case, they would have attracted more than curious eyes, namely police officers. The silver lining in all of her misey was that Berserker could literally vanish at will and therefore stayed with her without others being capable of spotting him. But if only it was that simple...

The Servant of Madness held said madness in more than just his behavior and his appearance; the very aura he emitted felt like standing in front of a starving predators, and this uneasiness spread around him even when his was in spiritual form. It was even more exhausting for Leanne of all people, as she had to bear with it all the time. But she didn't want to show any of it on her face.

Not in front of REVOC who was tasked with looking after her (in more ways than one, as she could guess) and was doing his best at his job. Unlike the magi who looked at her like she was some meprisable woman, he was careful not to put too much burden on Leanne.

But that wasn't enough for her to feel any less uneasy.

* * *

At long last, Michael came back to the gathering room to pick up his nephew.

When he saw his uncle entering the room, a spark of hope and expectancy lit up inside Leo's eyes. It wasn't that he couldn't wait to leave his newfound comrades or that he wanted to stay as far from Hatsuyo who was glarring at him again (which may or may not be his fault); but as soon as he spotted the small package wrapped up in fabric Michael was holding in one hand, the true purpose for his presence here resurfaced in his mind. He was going to summon a Servant. That was happening.

On the other hand, Michael's first reaction upon seeing Leo was to take a step back with surprise coloring his face.

"Whoa, what happened to your face?! Don't tell me you already started fighting! And mano a mano at that! You know you can't beat someone in a fight, you moron!"

"Thank you for rooting for me, O Brutus. I see I can always count on you to have my back if something happens to me. Anyway, I don't think you can call it a fight. It was the... err...heartfelt and one-sided reunion between my face and a fist. Yeah, that's it."

Hatsuyo was still giving him the death stare, yet at the same time she was hiding her katana behind her back apparently warry of Michael. She was doing a poorly job as well; the tip of the scabbard was peeking out from behind her head and she was too obvious in her attempt to hide away the weapon of the crime. fortunately (?) for her, Micahel was much more interested in making fun of Leo than in avenging him, so he didn't take notice of that orgy of evidence.

"Well, I guess what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Or dumber, go figure. Anyway, come with me young man! An adventure full of dangers awaits us!"

"I'm following you, Mr. Pinochet."

"How did I go from a senator to a dictator?! And will you let that down already! What are you, a kindergartner?"

"Tell that to my face and my back."

"Shut up and man up! And I'm sure it's something you brought on yourself anyway."

"I cannot confirm nor deny this accusation."

Still bantering they left the room under the amused or curious gaze of their fellow Masters and headed down the hallways once again for god knew where. Leo could finally take a deep breath and relax, thanks in part to the familiar feeling of interacting with his uncle.

"So, what did you think?" Michael asked him out of the blue after they finished their game of teasing. "The rest of the Red Faction I mean. You were afraid you wouldn't get along with them, so what's your verdict?"

"Hmm." Leo held his chin in reflexion before answering honestly. "They're...not bad people at heart, aren't they? I must say I was really surprised." If you excepted the bullying and the witch trial, Leo had no real complaint.

"Isn't it? For some random choice the Grail really didn't pick any ol'magus. Even the three founding families weren't chosen, and yet here we are uncle and nephew on the same side."

"Now that you mention it, I did find it strange. Isn't there supposed to be at least one Master for the Einzbern, the Makiri and the Tohsaka?"

"That's how it's supposed to be, but it looks like this war breaks all the rules in the end. Of course they could be among our enemies, but I highly doubt they'd ever go against the Mage's Association so we can assume they aren't involved at all."

That was weird to say the least, but definitely not something scratching their head over. It was like this and it didn't really change their situation in any meaningful way. There was a more important matter at hand however, namely the bundle in Michael's hand - the precious! Leo's curiosity was visibly attracted to it, so unavoidable Michael would notice. With a grin he waved the wrapped up object in front of Leo's face.

"Oh my, could _this_ be what you're interested in?"

"Yes! This is my Catalyst, isn't it? Gimme!"

"Hahaha, at least wait until we- get off me! Just be patient for God's sake! Sit! Sit!"

Michael had leverage against him this time, so bulldog-Leo had no choice but to comply. This was more a cease-fire than a peace agreement.

"Would it flay your throat to at least tell me what it is?"

"As long as you don't try to jump on me all of sudden." Michael sighed. "You're really being childish today, what's gotten into you?"

"I haven't had that many occasion for the past year so don't mind if I do."

Another sigh.

"Well, not that I can't understand. Fine, look at this." Michael unfloded the rich fabric and presented some peculiar item to Leo. It was palm-sized small and rather triangular in shape, a brown material with some inscription on it. It was clearly a fragment of something bigger, though Leo couldn't guess. "Tell you what, this is none other than a shard of the Round Table!"

"Hm...wait, do you mean _the_ Roung Table?!"

"What else? The legendary table around which all of King Arthur's knights would gather, in other words a Catalyst that can summon any of them. Gawain, Lancelot, Tristan, you name!"

"So a single Catalyst can summon such a great range of Servants." Leo observed with curiosity. "But then how can I know which one I will summon?"

"The one closer to you in term of personality, or in a different way I'd say. That's how it'd happen without a Catalyst so I don't think the Grail will let you do the picking. Not that it is a problem; pretty much all the Knights of the Round are considered to be top Servants. Now, if you really want to know..." Michael stopped in his track and indicated a door to Leo like a groom in a high class hotel. "Then the best way is to get it over with! After you."

The room Leo was led to had nothing remarkable that set it aside from the others, or even allowed to tell its function: it was simply empty of furnitures and also pretty dark at that. According to Michael it was a room that belonged to Leo's father and by extent to the Argas family, hence why he had picked it to do the summoning. It was usually used as a study and a laborarory for magecraft experiment, but since the summoning ritual would shake things up quite a bit Michael had had all the furnishes removed temporarily. Probably because of that the room felt unusually wide and spacious to Leo who could pratically hear the echo of his footsteps.

It did have one particular feature though: a two meters-wide dark red circle filled with complexe symbols and words, all of iit inscribed on the floor. Leo could recognize the summoning circle he saw back in the library, something he was glad he wouldn't have to draw himself - he already couldn't draw a cat, let alone a giant perfect circle and such intricate sketches.

"Do you need me to teach you the summoning incantations?" Michael inquired after he had put the shard of the Round Table.

"No thank you. At least that wasn't hard to remember, they sound like they were written by someone with an eighth-grader syndrom."

"Whatever's a eighth-grader syndrom?"

"You know, it's...ah, whatever. Let's do this."

Leo had been relatively relaxed up until now, but standing before the summoning circle and about to do sommething for the very first time he gulped and felt his chest being interlaced with anxiety. What of he stuttered? Was there a retry? No, before anything he shouldn't even think of failure! Come on, it was something he rehearsed several times already.

He took a deep breath, and the words started flowing out of his mouth:

" _Let silver and steel be the essence._

 _Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation._

 _Let_ _ **red**_ _be the color I pay tribute to._

 _Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall._

 _Let the four cardinal gates close._

 _Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate._ "

Leo felt a chill running through his entire body and his Magic Circuits converting the mana in the atmosphere into prana. The summoning circle started to glow of a bright red color as his whole body was burning from the prana consumption. He had made sure to add the line about the color like Michael had told him to as well.

" _Let it be filled. Again. Again. Again. Again._

 _Let it be filled fivefold for every turn, simply breaking asunder with every filling._

 _Let it be declared now; your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword._

 _Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail._

 _Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth._

 _An oath shall be sworn here._

 _I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven;_

I _shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell._ "

He was now in a sort of transe. Although prana was raging through his body, he felt no pain as if his focus was on the words he was pronoucing. A gate was opening; he could feel it! And what lied behind that gate was the Heroic Spirit called upon the world. Without hesitation, he opened that gate by pronuncing the last verse.

" _From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power,_

 _come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!"_

And then, an explosion occured.

Well, more like a sudden blast of wind. Michael wasn't kidding when he said the ritual would shake the room up: had they left anything inside it would probably have been knocked aside. Leo himself was caught by surprise and stumbled backward, hitting the hard floor with his buttocks. Michael, on the other hand, hadnt so much as flinched, probably that he expected it after he doing once for Rider. The room wasn't in a mess, but even so dust was flying around everywhere, obstructing his view of the circle and of the result. Suddenly, before all the dust ould fall to the floor, a shape emerged - the shape of a young man in armor.

The young knight looked youthful if anything - to the point Leo wouldn't be able to pinpoint an age. At any rate he seemed to be at least a little older than Leo. The armor he was wearing had a pretty generic shape, but the shades of white, gold and red gave the impression it was made of a precious metal, if not several. What made it all the more surrealist was that it was gleaming; not so much that Leo could be blinded, but in this room that was poorly lit the armor was emitting a faint light. Thanks to that Leo and Michael could see his short dark purple hair and his light blue eyes. Although he didn't have a cape, he had something similar starting from his waist and stopping just short of ground level. Finally, attached to his arm was a large shield of immaculate white like chalk, save for a cross of crimson red, painted in blood over the white surface of the ecu.

And Leo could only stare in awe as he was still lying on the floor; standing in front of him with a face devoid of any emotions, the Servant asked in a flat yet assured tone:

"In accordance to the summon I present myself - Servant Saberof Red. I ask of thee: are you my Master?"

* * *

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _Welcome back for this first chapter of Fate/Rongodamiant, as well as the second rewritten chapter after the Prologue! If you've read through the Prologue, it means you've given this serie your interest. If you've actually read through the first chapter it means you've given it a chance and I couldn't be more grateful for that._

 _All the Masters of Red, along with their Servants, have been presented in this chapter. Sure it was short, but be assured that you'll get to discover them individually over time. I hope you'll come to apreciate them as much I do. Next chapter will be dedicated to the Black Faction, although I don't know if I'll actually rewrite it or any chapter beyond. Just rewriting this first chapter took me a lot of time (and it has almost tripled in size), and that time is not spent on continuing the story. Anyway, see you guys in the most recent chapters!_

 _Once again, thank you for reading this chapter. Feel free to comment, review or ask a question!_

 _~Legends Storyteller._


	3. Chapter II: Pitch Black

Chapter II: Pitch Black

* * *

«In accordance to the summon, I present myself- Saber of Red. I ask of you, are you my Master?»

Even after hearing those words, Leo was so dazed by Saber's appearance he stood open-mouthed a few seconds before reacting.

«Hu-Ah! Yes.» He showed the Command Spells on his hand. «I am the one who summoned you -your Master!»

Saber, instead of saying anything else, simply stared at him as if he was testing his reaction. Leo -who didn't like being analyzed to start with- decided to take the lead.

«Can I ask you something? Which knight are you?» He pointed at the catalyst on the altar. «Since I summoned you with a s-hard of the Round Table I didn't knew who would be summoned.»

«I understand.» Saber nodded. «Excuse me for not presenting myself earlier, Master. My name is Galahad.»

Saber kneeled down and bent his head forward like a knight paying allegiance to his lord. Leo sincerely didn't knew how to react in this situation. He didn't especially like having people bow before him, but since he did it on his own he didn't knew if it was nice to disrupt him. In the end he opted for the former.

«Err- You don't need to kneel down! I am only the one who summoned you...» His voice slowly faded when he finally acknowledged what Saber told him. «Wait, you said Galahad? The Galahad?!»

«Yes, I am Galahad, the knight who sat at the Siege Perilous.»

Leo had pretty much hit the jackpot. Among the knights of the Round Table, Galahad was considered as the Best Knight. To be able to summon him was a great advantage in and of itself. Leo decided to use his clairvoyance powers as a Master to check his Servant's ability. His overall statistics were good, thank both to his rank as a Heroic Spirit and the fact that Leo had good Magic Circuits. His Noble Phantasm in particular was A++ rank! Then, Leo decided to take a look at his skills. There, among the class skills and others skills you would expect from a knight, one skill in particular drew his attention. The skill in question was **Chosen One** at A-rank. Apparently, it was the embodiment of the luck of being chosen from birth among thousands to accomplish a special feat. The effect was that the Luck Checks were pratically always successful.

«Master, is there a problem?» Saber asked. Leo realized he had been staring at him without a word for a moment.

«It's nothing!» He sighed. He realized now just how demanding summoning his Servant had been. A good rest would be more than welcomed. But before that… «Saber, in order to complete our pact, may I ask you what is it that you wish for?»

When he said that, Saber frowned a little. Apparently he didn't expect to be asked that. He hesitated a little before answering.

«I seek for the Holy Grail.» He said in a balanced tone.

«I figured out that much. What I want to know is the reason why you seek it.»

«To obtain the Holy Grail. The very reason of my birth was to carry out the quest of finding the Grail.»

It actually made sens. The knight Galahad had been designated even before his birth as the one who would retrieve the Grail and bring it to Britain. It was the fate that made him the best knight, that allowed him to sit at the Siege Perilous and that gave him the **Chosen One** skill. In that regard, it could make sens that his wish would be the Grail itself. It made sens but…

«But didn't you already find it? Didn't you already achieve your quest?»

Indeed, among all the heros who mostly had a tragic fates, Galahad's legend finished on what was closer to a happy end. He finally found the object of his quest at the end of his journey and prayed for his own death to come. And when finally he looked deep into the Grail and witnessed its final secret, he died happy and was taken to heaven.

«It doesn't matter if I found it once, or if this Grail isn't the same I found long ago. Today, somewhere, the Grail is awaiting for the most worthy to possess it. That is why I have to find it.»

Leo didn't knew what to think. Once again it made sens and he had no counter-arguments, but Leo couldn't help but to feel there was something else to it. Oh well, it didn't really matter in the end. He didn't care that much about his wish.

«What about you, Master?» Saber asked.

«Mh?»

«For what wish are you fighting?»

«Well,» Leo scratched the back of his head. «To be honest I don't really have a wish.»

«Why are you fighting then? Why did you take part in this war if you don't wish for anything?» His question was legitimate.

«Why? Well, because I have to I guess. I have no other choice than taking part in. You would have prefered that I leave my seat to someone who has an actual wish?»

Saber shook his head in response.

«I am not one to criticize your choice. After all, it's thanks to you that I was summoned in this war.»

«Really? I know that I did the summoning but someone else could have-»

«No, if among all the knights that were my companions I was summoned, that's because your personality and mine are very close.»

Their personalities were close? Leo could hardly believe it. Saber was someone so brave and determined that he came back from death to do something he had already done during his life. Leo, on the other hand, would have rather not participated in the war. That being said, Leo's personality probably wasn't close to any of the knights'. He so happened to have some affinity with Galahad.

Neither him nor Saber said one more word after this and he considered it the end of the discussion. Leo turned around to see what his uncle, which had been waiting the whole time, was doing. To his surprise, Michael was talking with someone to the phone. Most of magi considered technology as blasphemous but Michael being an exception Leo wasn't really surprised. What caught hisd attention was the grim expression on his face as he was listening to someone over the phone. Finally, he said a few words in French that Leo, thanks to having passed most of his childhood in France, understood.

«Yes… Yes… It cannot be helped then. Yes… Goodbye.» He hanged up the phone.

«What's the matter, oncle Michael?» Leo asked his uncle. The latter turned his head in his direction looking more miserable than ever. «Since earlier you seem to have learn something you didn't talk about.»

Michael looked down and sighed. He looked around in search for something to sit on but, seeing that there was no such thing, he simply sat on the floor. He massaged his shoulder for a minute, obviously preparing his words. Finally, with a final sigh of exhaustion, he started talking.

«It's about Maria. Her boat…

* * *

 **Half an hour earlier**

 **Somewhere in the Channel**

The boat was sweeftly moving forward on the waves. On the deck, bent over the hand rail to look at the sea, a young woman about twenty with black long hair was humming peacefully. The wind was softly carressing her sking and the perfume of the sea was filling up her nose. This feeling was even more refreshing for someone like her who spent two years in a huge city like Paris.

«You seem happy with the trip, Maria.» A familiar voice reached the ears of the girl known as Maria Argas.

She stopped bending over the hand rail to look at the one who called out at her and smiled.

«Why, you aren't, Silvelune?» She answered to the girl in a wheelchair.

The one accompaning her was a gorgeous girl with blond long hair and a pale skin sitting in a black electric wheelchair. Actually, her skin was so pale that one could mistaken her fo a corpse. It was due to the fact she usually didn't go outside of her house. This girl was Silvelune Arbonnaux. Her and Maria were friends since almost ten years and they were both magi. However, Maria was the only one to practice magecraft on a daily basis. Silvelune couldn't do the same for the same reason she was stuck in this wheelchair. Her legs worked properly and she could probably get up and walk if she wanted to. Her body, however, was weak and tired quickly. If she were to get up and walk, she would drop after ten metres; although there was no problem with her Magic Circuits, casting spells was demanding for her.

And yet she had decided to accompany Maria on this trip to England.

«Sorry, I didn't meant to spoil your mood.» Silvelune joked with a chuckle. «But, honestly, you're really enthusiast to the idea of going to London.»

«Of course I am.» Maria stretched. «I couldn't go last year because of my studies. But now I have a good reason to go and see Leo.»

«Oh, so that's the reason why.» Silvelune chuckled again. «You like him that much.»

«Hey, what is that supposed to mean? Leo's like a little brother to me.»

That's right. She remembered the first time she had met with her cousin, when he was barely eight year old. At this time, he barely talked to her and spent most of his time all alone. But things had changed and, little by little, he opened his heart to her. She taught him French and he talked about England to her. It wasn't exaggerated to say they were like brother and sister. In fact, Maria didn't recall meeting Leo's mother nor his father. It's been so long it felt like the two of them had always been together.

«But, Maria.» Silvelune's voice rose again. «There are several magi on this boat right?»

«Well, yes. Because of the Holy Grail War that started, the Mage's Association has called numerous magi as support.»

«From what you told me, it's a battle between factions, right? But if the Mage's Association ask for support, aren't you afraid that this boat could be targeted?»

«Mmmh.» Maria had already thought about it. «I'm not worried. As you said there are several magi with us.» She puffed her chest a little. «And I'm not a harmless little girl either. You can count on me if things turn bad.»

«That's not what I meant.» Silvelune sighed. «This is the problem of having a father too carefree I guess.»

«?» Maria didn't understand what Silvelune meant. «What do you mea-»

Suddenly, she was interrupted by a scream. It was a scream of pain from a man. The scream disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. It was like it had been cut off by something else. After this, nothing. Not a voice could be heard. Actually, no noise could be heard at all. The boat had stopped advancing.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Maria heard footsteps coming from a door not far. This door led to a metal stairway that went inside the boat. It was from the same door that she heard the scream. She looked at Silvelune to see that she was still calm although her smile had faded. It was a good thing; in a situation like this, panic only worsen the situation. Truth be told, Maria knew this trip wouldn't go as planed. She was ready to fight. What worried her was Silvelune. Her friend couldn't take a fight against another magus. That's why her first reaction had been to put herself between the door and her friend.

Finally, the footsteps stopped and Maria could hear a growl from behind the door. Rather than opening the door that wasn't locked, the unknown aggressor utterly smashed the door. Then, he came out. It was a man rather young-looking wearing a black coat with a symbol on it that Maria couldn't reconize. In his hand he was holding a sword tightly. This sword too was strange as one half was black and the other half was white. The sword as well as his coat were covered in blood, as if he killed not like an experienced killer but rather like a savage. When he turned in their direction, Maria met his gaze. It wasn't the gaze of someone who had found their victim; it was the blind gaze of a madman. But what disturbed her the most wasn't his appearance nor his gaze. It was his presence. Maria could understand just by looking at him that she wasn't facing a human being.

«Silvi.» She called out her friend. «This may turn out in a bad way. You need to start fleeing while I occupy him.» As she said those words, Maria heard Silvelune chuckling softly.

«There's no need to flee. Allow me to present our guest. Maria, here is Berserker of Black. Berserker, Maria.» She said in her usual tone.

«Huh? Silvie, what are you-» Maria wanted to turn around to look at her friend but, before she could, something touched her neck and she felt her consciousness fading away. She only heard those last words.

«This is what I meant.»

She blacked out.

* * *

 **St. Marie Island, Madagascar**

While physically off the east coast of Madagascar, St. Marie Island was still integral to it. It was most known as a touristic destination thanks to its luxurious vegetation and its quality sea floor. It was also known as an old pirates landmark and a hot spot for whale watching.

But it was less known as the emplacement of the New Edge Corporation's headquarters. They settled in here only a few years ago and if its location wasn't exactly a secret, it wasn't a globaly famous company either. The main reasons for this were obviously its antagonism to the Mage's Association and the fact that their 'products' weren't made for the populace. And even if they knew New Edge was on this island, not even the local residents knew where their headquarters were located exactly. In fact, people even invented ghost stories about it.

 **In the forest**

On the floor of the tropical forest, a red summoning circle was glowing. Next to it was an altar with the catalyst laying on it. It was a golden ring, a jewel so refined it was impossible it had been made by human hands. Its price would be a life worth of money. However, for anyone who knew its true nature, this ring was priceless; for it was Andvaranaut, the cursed ring of Andvari. It had lost its magical ability though, and was nothing more than an extremely precious jewel.

The one reciting incantation in front of the circle was a black young man in his early twenties with black curly hair. He was wearing what looked like a bartender suit with a black fedora on his head. He was simply standing expressionless in front of the circle, his arm raised forward. Some sweat drops were running on his forehead as the mana was burning his body.

 _«Let silver and steel be the essence._

 _Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation._

 _Let **black** be the color I pay tribute to._

 _Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall._

 _Let the four cardinal gates close._

 _Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate._

 _Let it be filled. Again. Again. Again. Again._

 _Let it be filled fivefold for every turn, simply breaking asunder with every filling._

 _Let it be declared now;_

 _your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword._

 _Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail._

 _Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth._

 _An oath shall be sworn here._

 _I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven;_

 _I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell._

 _From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power,_

 _come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!»_

An explosion of light occured and a burst of wind blew through the trees of the tropical forest. The young man had raised his arm in order to protect his eyes from the light. When he lowered it, he beholded the person that had just appeared in front of him.

It was a beautiful maiden that looked in her late teens. Her long blond hair looked like it was made of gold and her strong grey eyes were those of a warrior. She was wearing a silver armor and a white tunic. Strangely, it looked like some part was missing at the back of her armor. Finally, she was holding a helmet under her right arm and a giant spear with an arrow-like head in her left hand. She was standing right and proud in front of the young man.

She examined him up and down with an inquisitive look just like someone examines a horse before buying it. Even so, the young man stood expressionless without a word. After ten second under the strong gaze of the maiden, this one decided to talk.

«In accordance to the summon, I present myself- Lancer of Black. Are you my Master?» She asked in a firm tone.

«I am.» The young man answered in a voice as emotionless as his face. «Allow me to confirm: are you Brynhildr, the shieldmaiden of Sigurd?»

His question was normal. There was no hint of any meanness in his voice. And yet, Lancer looked offended.

«Of course I am.» She replied with a touch of anger in her voice. «And I'll ask you to never repeat this name in front of me.»

She didn't wanted to hear the name Sigurd? That was to be expected maybe. After all, Sigurd was the one who woke her up from her sleep but betrayed her love later. Though, her legend ended with her killing herself to be with him for eternity. Not that the Master understood anyway.

«And what about you?» She pointed at the young man. «What is the name of the one claiming to be my Master?»

«I cannot give you my real name, but you can call me Ewald Wachhund. I am a freelancer magus.» Ewald answered, his voice still as emotionless.

«Oh? And why should I trust a Master that doesn't even give me his real name?» Lancer asked in a suspicious voice.

«I would give you my name if I could. Plus, you need a Master anyway, right?»

Lancer tilted her head and looked at him without a word for two seconds. Then, everything happened at the speed of the sound. Lancer dropped her helmet to grab her spear with both hand, swung it in direction of Ewald's head and stopped it at a hair's distance of his face. However, Ewald didn't faze; he didn't even blink an eye. It seemed this lack of reaction angered Lancer

«What's wrong?» She asked aggressively. «Aren't you afraid of my spear?»

«No. I'm not especially afraid of dying. You could nail me on the ground that it wouldn't bother me at all.»

«Oho? At least you have some balls.» Lancer sounded a little impressed, but still aggressive. She tightened the grasp on her spear. «What is your wish for the Grail, Master?»

«...» Ewald stood silent a little before answering. «I want something back.»

«You mean you're not even able to take back something that belongs to you? I thought you weren't afraid of dying.»

«I guess I woud have prefered it was that simple. But the problem is I am not even sure of what it is that I want back.»

«...»

It was Lancer's turn to stay silent. She looked like she was unsure what to think of what he told her. Finally, she lowered her spear, picked up her helmet and walked away as if she knew where she was going.

«Very well. I acknowledge you as my Master - _for now_.»

«Wait!» Ewald called out at her. She turned around with a questioning look, wondering what he wanted. «You asked me what my wish is, but you didn't tell me yours.»

«… I want the opposit. I wish to undo my choice long ago that was worth me to lose my statut as a valkyrie and that led to my encounter with 'him'. If that isn't possible, then I want at least to lose my ability to feel love.» She declared solemnly, without an ounce of doubt.

Ewald tilted his head in confusion. He looked at this woman whose dearest wish was to lose love, something she treasured until the depth of death. This wish; this will; Ewald… couldn't understand it.

«Tell me, is love something to make such a fuss over? Is it that important to begin with?» He asked her with all the honesty in the world.

Lancer -no, Brynhildr- looked at him with _those_ eyes. There they were. The eyes of those that didn't understand. The eyes of those who didn't knew that people like him existed. Ewald had seen those eyes so many times he could picture them perfectly in his mind. The eyes of people who could feel emotions.

«Of… Of course!» She lost her temper. «Of course love is important! It's powerful! It can provoke war! It drives gods to merge with mortals! It can bring about the destruction of a government and makes the weakest of hero strong! It can pursue me even within the deepest bowels of death and torture me for eternity!»

«Is that so? I guess you're right.» Ewald looked at the palm of his hand. «Love, friendship, fear of dying- those are feelings that I lost long ago at the same time as my name.»

She could nail him to the ground with her spear; all he would feel would be pain. The most beautiful woman in the world could declare her love for him; all he would feel would be puzzlement. The person that pretended themselve his friend could betraye him; it was just one more person to dispose of. This was the painless hell of one who couldn't feel nor understand most of emotions.

«Losing your feelings?» Lancer looked at him with eyes filled with pity -or maybe it was pity. In the end he didn't know. «Surely you cannot be completely devoided of feeling.» Lancer somehow pulled herself together, as if nothing that he just said ever reached her ears.

«You're right, some emotions are still there, but I miss the most important. I am like a Pandora Box. A box waiting for the Grail to fill it.»

Ewald didn't knew if Lancer listened to that last part. She was already walking away again, though she probably didn't know where to go.

«I still don't believe you. Now if you could tell me where our allies are rather than talking nonsens.»

Nonsens, huh? Ewald didn't hold it against Lancer for thinking that. For a woman whose life was completely turned upside down by her feelings, meeting someone who couldn't feel these feelings must be unacceptable. But Ewald didn't lie. He wanted something she was tired of. He never really had any problem living without his feelings and he could probably end his life this way. But someday, someone told him the most important in life was to find hapiness. But what was that hapiness he was talking about? Ewald couln't even choose his clothes himself without looking like a clown. What was someone like him missing? That's what he wanted to know.

* * *

 **New Edge Corporation's headquarters**

In an empty room, Linandir Eïchtobell had drawn a summoning circle and was preparing to summon his Servant. New Edge had gotten several catalyst they presented to the four Master who accepted to join them. Linandir had immediatly spotted the most promising of all.

The catalyst he had chosen was a large crimson breastplate that used to belong to no other than Alexander the Great himself. With that, he would summon a Rider so poweful the war was already won! All was ready. Now, all that was left was the incantation.

 _«Let silver and steel be the essence._

 _Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation._

 _Let **black** be the color I pay tribute to._

 _Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall._

 _Let the four cardinal gates close._

 _Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate._

 _Let it be filled. Again. Again. Again. Again._

 _Let it be filled fivefold for every turn, simply breaking asunder with every filling._

 _Let it be declared now;_

 _your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword._

 _Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail._

 _Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth._

 _An oath shall be sworn here._

 _I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven;_

 _I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell._

 _From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power,_

 _come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!»_

After the flash of light and the small explosion, Linandir saw a tall figure rise in the smoke. He had succeded! He had summoned Alexander the Great! He had-

«In accordance to the summon, I present myself -Rider of Black! I ask of you, are you my Underling?»

«… What?» Linandir could only exclaim his confusion.

The man in front of him didn't make him think of a conqueror, nor a Greek Heroic Spirit at all! Rider of black was a tall man with burgundy hair and black eyes. What he was wearing wasn't even close to a Greek armor, but rather a golden and red Roman emperor's outfit! And Roman emperor he was, according to the laurel wreath on his head. He had a large smile on his face which displayed an arrogant confidence.

«I said: are you my Underling?» Rider repeated

«What?! N-No! I am your Master!»

«Master? Nonsens! No one is above the emperor, except the gods! And that's who I am!»

«W-What are you-»

«Rejoice, Underling! You have summoned me, Jupiter! I shall grant you victory for helping me to reincarne in this world!» Rider shouted proudly.

Jupiter? What was he talking about?! He had been told the Grail couldn't summon actual gods. So what was Rider talking about? Linandir understood when he took a look at his Servant's skills. A+ rank **Mental Pollution**?! How could he fail that badly? He wanted to summon Alexander the Great, the King of Conquerors. But instead, the one he summoned was a mad emperor with who talking normally was impossible!

«Now! It about time to greet our allies!» Rider announced out loud. «Incitatus! Incitatus! Where are you, Incitatus?!»

Suddenly, Linandir heard gallop rhythm and horse snortings in the distance. Then, as if it appeared from nowhere, a horse entered the room. It was a great white horse with a golden saddle and reins. Rider stroked the horse's neck.

«Allow me to present you my consul, Incitatus! Now Incitatus we have to organize a banquet to celebrate our revival!»

«No, you should stop now!» Linandir was pissed off. Not only Rider wasn't the one he intended to summon in the first place, but he didn't even listen to him! Linandir raised his left hand where the Command Seals had appeared. « **By this Command Seal, I command you, Rider, to** **obey** **me!** »

One Command Seal disappeared from his hand Rider shook like he had been hit by a shockwave. He turned around and looked at Linandir with furious eyes.

«How dare you! You dare to give your emperor -no, your god!- an order?! Your pride shall not remain unpunished!»

Rider started to move to grab Linandir's head, but the later was already ready to cast a second Command Spell.

« **By this Command Seal, I forbbid you to kill me, Rider!** » The second Command Seal disappeared and Rider shook again.

It had only been two minutes since he summoned his Servant, and he was already down to one Command Seal. What a disaster. But at least now his Servant will be more obedient.

«You… you ungrateful wretch! I made you the honor of summoning me, and you dare to give orders to this god?! I will-» Rider was interrupted by his horse's neighing. «What? What is it Incitatus?» Rider was addressing to his horse.

The horse kept neighing like it was really talking to him. Was this horse intelligent? And could Rider really understand what it was 'saying'? By looking again in his Servant's skills, Linandir found **Animal Dialogue** at rank B-.

«I see… mm-mm… you're right.» He mutured. Rider turned around and looked at his Master with imperious eyes. «Incitatus is right! As the one who has summoned me and who is providing me with prana, I shall overlook your arrogance! But be sure that as soon as I get my hands on the Grail, I'll have you executed!»

Linandir sighed. Well, at least his Servant was more willing to cooperate now (should he thank the horse for that?). And despite his death threats, he chouldn't be to much of a bother for now. He'll simply have him kill himself with his last Command Seal.

«Now Rider, I'd like you to answer my questions.» Linandir told his Servant.

«What questions could a low-life have for a god?»

Linandir decided to let it slide. Arguing with someone with the skill **Mental Pollution** was the same as arguing with a rock, except this time the rock would answer back and insult you.

«Is this horse -Incitatus was it?- your Noble Phantasm?»

«What a sordid question! Of course, a god like me only deserve the fastest of horses! He isn't my only Noble Phantasm though. As I told you he is my consul!»

«Right, right...» Linandir sighed again. «Now, could you tell me what your wish for the Grail is? As your Master I need to know it.»

«As my Master? You little… Anyway! Look at the world and tell me what you see!»

«Errr… people I guess.» What did he mean, 'look at the world'?

«People, yes! And what are these people doing?!»

«… living?»

«They worship their so-called God! Their so-called Allah! Their so-called Yahvé! Unforgivable! I am the one and only god they should be worshipping!»

Linandir wanted to slam his head against the wall for summoning this Servant. Rider was the perfect exemple of an anti-hero. He'll have to make sure this megalomaniac Servant of his doesn't get his hands on the Grail, or who knows what might happen to the world?

«Sigh. Aren't you gonna ask what my wish is?» He asked to Rider.

«Pointless! An emperor -no, a god!- doesn't care about their servants' will! Now let's go meet our allies!»

* * *

Ewald and Lancer were walking through the hallways of the New Edge's headquaters. The place wasn't very decorated. With its completely white walls and the lamps on the ceiling, it looked like they were inside of a hospital. Ewald had already been in one of those hospital once, but not for a medical examination. All he actually remembered from it was the intense pain in his right shoulder and his ribs.

«...Master.» After an hour without opening her mouth, Lancer spoke up. «About what you said earlier.»

«What is it?»

«...» But Lancer never asked her question, as if she was reluctant.

«...» Ewald stood silent too. Discussions about his 'infirmity' were always awkward -especially for the other party- and he didn't really want to sink deeper in it. However, he felt Lancer was awaiting an answer nonetheless. «I didn't lie nor did I try to make fun of you.»

«...» Lancer was strangely calmer than the fiery maiden who launched a passionate speech about love one hour ago. As she didn't say anything back, Ewald considered the subject closed.

Right now he and his Servant were heading to the shooting range he had been told of. He didn't expect an magi organization to have anything close to a shooting range, but it just confirmed the rumor he heard about New Edge being unorthodox. From what Alexander had told him, this underground base included several laboratories, a library, and dormitories. However, none of the Masters slept in the said dormitories, but rather in separate rooms.

«Oh? Is she one of them?!»

Both Ewald and Lancer heard a loud voice ahead of them. A dozen of metres away, a tall man dressed like a Roman emperor was looking at them. Next to him was a man who looked only a couple of years older than Ewald. He had light brown hair gathered into a ponytail and was wearing a black coat. Ewald reconized him as one of the Master he had met when he arrived here. If he remembered correctly his name was Linandir Eïchtobell. The man behind him was probably his Servant.

Ewald and Lancer stopped in front of them. The Servant looked excited, like a kid who just found a new toy.

«From the spear in your hand, I deduce you must be Lancer, right?!» Linandir's Servant asked aloud as if he was deaf.

«And what if I was?» Lancer replied. Ewald didn't knew why but she sounded angry again. He couldn't tell if this Servant emitted something that made him detestable, as even Linandir was gritting his teeth. He could however tell that he wasn't the kind of person you could discuss with.

«Rejoice! Rejoice, Lancer! I am Jupiter! I have been summoned on your side as Rider of Black! With me, your victory is assured!» Rider was shouting so that his voice reverbated through all the aisle. From the look of it this Rider had some screw loose.

«Jupiter?» Lancer answered in an incredulous voice. «I thought gods couldn't be summoned in the Holy Grail War.»

«Sadly, you're right! I have been summoned as the emperor I once was. But do not worry for that it shall not change the odds!»

Ewald didn't want to spend more time than necessary with a madman. He had already tried to argue with one in the past, and he had unserstood clearly that it was pointless.

«If you may excuse me.» Ewald told to Rider and his Master and started to walk by them, until someone raised his arm in order to block the way. But it wasn't Rider who did so, it was Linandir. «…What do you want.»

«I didn't have the occasion to tell you this earlier.» The man was looking at Ewald with mistrustful eyes. «I don't trust you at all. You're just a freelancer who joined us for money!»

Ewald sighed in his mind. He was used to this, not being trusted. As a mercenary, everyone consider you as a hyena attracted by gain. Of course he didn't mind and he wasn't interested in it either, as neither him could trust people. Well, there were some people he knew would back him up no matter what but it didn't change much.

«… You're not forced to trust me. As you said I'm just here to do my job.» With that he tried to bypass the arm blocking the way, but Linandir grabbed him this time.

«I'm not done yet!» He said angrily.

«What do you want from me? Even if you don't trust me I doubt your boss would be happy if you tried to kill me.»

«Tell me what is your wish.»

«What?»

«Your wish for the Grail! Even a mercenary like you must have something to seek, a wish you want the Grail to grant.»

«… If that's what you want.» Ewald had no point in hiding it. «As you see me now I cannot feel emotions a normal human being would. I want for the Grail to give me back my emotions.»

Strangely, Linandir didn't have _those_ eyes as the rest of the person Ewald met. Instead he frowned even more.

«And you tell me to trust a cold killing machine like you!»

«No. As I said it's up to you if you want to trust me or not. Now let me pass.»

But Linandir didn't let him pass. Instead he grabbed him by the colar and brought him in front of him. Lancer took it as an aggression and was about to attack him with her spear. Rider, instead of being ready to fight like Lancer, watched the scene amused. In fact Ewald could swear he saw a small ray of hope in his gaze. As for Ewald, he had swiftly grabbed a gun hidden in his back.

But all four -three in fact- of them were interrupted.

«Stop that right now!» A strong male voice rose behind them.

The four of them looked back to see who it was that called out at them. They saw a man in his early forties with a military haircut walk in their direction accompagned by someone else. The man was wearing a black suit and tie and had the walk of a trained soldier. In his eyes, Ewald reconized the experience of those who had been on several battlefied. Ewald reconized him. He was the actual wingman of Alexander Lendric: Bruno Blackeye.

«Mr. Blackeye, I-» Linandir tried to defend himself.

«Enough! Mr. Lendric has been clear about it: no fighting between allies.» Bruno replied in a didactic tone. «It goes for you too, Mr. Wachhund.»

«Yes, sir.» Ewald replied in the same way a military would. Bruno seemed to have flinched, if not slightly, upon hearing it.

Linandir finally let go of Ewald's collar. The later could now fully turn around to face the military. He looked at the person behind him. He could not fully see them because they were completely hidden by a large raincoat.

«Mmm? Who might you be?» Rider asked, pointing at the the figure in the raincoat. But it was Bruno who answered instead.

«She is my Servant, Saber.» He simply said.

«I see, I see! Then allow me to present myself! I am Jupiter, summoned as the Servant Rider! Rejoice, Saber!» Rider declared proudly.

Saber took a few steps in their direction and Ewald could finally se her better. Or rather he could see her face. And it was nothing less than strange: her overall features looked Asian but her skin was so dark it was unnatural and there seemed to be some kind of war paint on her face. The pupils of her eyes were white and her whites were completely black. Her forehead was completely hidden by teal bangs. She was looking at Rider with an irritated expression, then turned her gaze toward Linandir.

«Tch! You had to summon Alexander the Great but instead you summoned a damn emperor. And one of the worst at that!» She accused him.

«That's not my fault! I had no idea someone else than Alexander could be summoned if I used his breastplate!» Linandir defended himself.

«Hold on, Saber! You dare to insult the emperor -no, the god!- that I am?!» Rider shouted.

«And what if I do?» Saber replied in a challenging tone.

«You fool! I will-!»

«I told you no fight between allies!» Bruno shouted even louder than Rider, which wasn't nothing, and the two of them stopped. It seemed the military had some kind of natural autority. «Rider, I'll ask you to forgive Saber, she holds a grudge against emperors. After all she died by the hand of one.»

«Oi, you damn brat.» Saber was talking to her Master. «I'm not a sore loser. But these emperors are unforgivable, especially this damn Yellow Emperor!»

«Saber, this is no reason to pick on him. If you want to spend your wrath, do it on our opponents.» Saber decided to shut her mouth but reluctantly. Bruno then noticed the gun in Ewald's hand. «Are you heading for the shooting range?»

«Yes, why?»

Bruno walked past them and motioned to Ewald to follow him.

«I'm heading there too. Come with me.»

Saber walked up to her Master. When she passed next to Ewald, he didn't knew if it was his imagination but the movements of her head moved away her bangs for a second, and... did he just see a second pair of eyes?!

Ewald watched her walking away, pensive.

«What's wrong Master? You changed your mind?» Lancer asked him.

«Mmh? Ah, no. Let's go.»

* * *

Ewald and Bruno were both standing in front of a target in the shooting range. Lancer and Saber were standing away from them, silent. While Ewald was using the gun that hadn't left his hand, the military took out a sniper rifle and had chosen one of the most farther targets. Ewald simply watched him assemble his weapon with expert hands, confirming his thought when he first saw him.

«You aren't a magus, are you?»

Bruno let out a short chuckle as he was aiming at the target.

«It's obvious isn't it?»

BANG

«I knew New Edge was different from the usual magi organization, but not to the point to hire actual militaries.» In turn, Ewald raised his arms and aimed at the target.

BANG

«You're right.» BANG «Except that I wasn't hired by New Edge.»

«?»

«I have always been by Mr. Lendric's side since he was a child. I was there way before he created this organization.»

BANG

Bruno laid down his sniper rifle to look at Ewald as the latter was about to shoot.

BANG

«You're the intriguing one, you know? I had made research on you beforehand. 'The Ruthless Killer'. But to think you don't feel emotions...» He paused and raised his rifle again.

BANG

BANG

«I can easily guess what Linandir was talking about ealier with you.»

«Can you?»

BANG

«Yes. He already told us about his doubts about you. And he is right when he says you cannot be trusted blindly.»

BANG

«I see.» Ewald muttured. «And you're the one who's gonna keep an eye on me.»

BANG

At the black boy's statement, Bruno didn't flinch, but he paused a few second without moving.

«Earlier, you answered me like a soldier would, Mr. Wachhund.» BANG «But you don't look like a disciplined soldier to me.» BANG BANG «Given your skill with your gun, you've probably been using it for a long time. Yet, I was told magi didn't like the use of modern weaponery.»

BANG

«… As far as I remember, I've always been holding a gun. I only discovered magecraft later and I barely use it anyway.»

There should have been a 'BANG'.

But instead of shooting, Bruno had raised his gaze from his scope and was looking at Ewald in shock.

«Come on, you've probably been on many battlefields. You've already seen people like me, haven't you?» The latter said

«...» The military was visibly uncomfortable with the topic. It had probably brought back bad memories for him. Simple memories for Ewald.

«It was a rhetorical question. You don't have to answer. If you want to talk about something else, what about your Saber?»

BANG

«What about her?» Bruno pulled himself together.

BANG

«Why is she hiding herself under a raincoat?»

«Her appearance has been distorted by the skill **Innocent Monster**. If one of our opponents were to see her actual body, they would guess her identity easily.»

BANG

«It makes sens.» So he hadn't imagining it. She had four eyes. «But why is she hiding herself here too? We're supposed to be allies.»

BANG

«… Personal preference. Apparently she doesn't like her new appearance much.»

«The curse of fame...»

«In her wase, she's rather infamous. She's one of the oldest Heroic Spirits, one of our trump cards.»

BANG BANG

«Lendric would lend one of his trump card to someone who isn't a magus?» BANG «It shows how much he trusts you. If I had my emotions I would probably be jealous.»

«And I don't plan on betraying his expectations.» BANG «Plus, our laboratories aren't here for naught.»

«...»

BANG

«...»

The two of them stood silent for the rest of their shooting session.

* * *

 **Corvo Island, archipelago of the Azores**

After the reaction of the ley lines, the Mage's Association had spread magi in the four corners of the world to find where the pieces of Grail were located. It wasn't exactly a blind quest; thanks to the ley lines they had a vague idea of where they could be. However, their precise locations were unknown. That's why people like Annabel were searching for them.

She had been sent here in the archipelago of the Azores with two other magi, Crilin and Ernest. It's been a week since they were here but they still hadn't found anything. As for now, they were on Corvo, the smallest island of the archipelago.

«What are we gonna do now?» Crilin asked. «No matter how much we search we can't find this Grail Piece.»

«We cannot go back to the Clock Tower empty handed or without informations.» Ernest replied. «All we can do is keep searching.»

«But even the local residents don't know anything! If a Grail Shard had arrived here, don't you think they would have noticed it?!»

«We can't say for sure. Nothing of the sort ever happened before.»

«… It's probably somewhere no one ever go… or somewhere no one would notice.» Annabel mused.

«It doesn't help us at all.»

Suddenly, a message in their head alarmed them that someone crossed the bounded field they had set up. It wasn't an especially elaborate bounded field as it was only for the time of their meeting, but it was enough to warn them if someone crossed it. When they saw the one who crossed it, they couldn't help but be on their guard.

They were inside a big crater on an island far from the ones with civilization. Only tourists would come here. But the person in front of them was alone, without a guide. It was an old man wearing the traditional clothes of the Azores. His complexion was pale though, unlike the native of the archipelago. He was advancing in their direction with a curious expression. When he was only a few metres away from them he said something in Portuguese. Ernest was the only one in their group good enough in Portuguese to understand him, so he translated.

«He asks what we are doing here.»

«Tell him we are tourists. And ask him who he is.»

Annabel's throat was dry. She gulped as the old man said another sentence in Portuguese.

«He says his name is Outis. He asks if we're lost.»

«Tell him we're alright.» Crilin grumbled. «We don't need him to get in our way-» But he was interrupted as the old man started talking again. «What is he saying?»

«He asks if...» Ernest kept listening to him. «Apparently, words spread quickly here. He asks if we are the tourists looking for something 'unusual'» He was probably talking about their interrogatory of the residents about the Grail Shard.

«And… what if we are?» Annabel asked. Ernest asked the old man.

«He says that he comes on this island often, and that indeed there's something strange on it since around twelve years ago.»

«Really!» Crilin and Annabel asked in chorus. «Ask him where!»

After Ernest told the old man, the latter nodded enthusiastically and pointed a direction at their left.

«He says it's in this direction, on the shore.» Ernest thanked the old man as Annabel and Crilin started walking.

«Ah, wait he says he has one more question.» Enest announced.

«You're the only one who can talk to him! We're going ahead!» And so they kept walking away.

«So,» Ernest turned into the old man's direction and asked him what he wanted. He said he was looking for something too. Ernest asked him what he was looking for and, when the old man answered, the magus blinked.

He had replied 'Três pequenos bisbilhotares'. But that meant-

Quicker than sound, the old man took a knife out of his clotes and put his hand on Ernest's mouth while he was cutting his throat. He couldn't scream. He couldn't warn his team-mates. He just died like a pig while the old man's powerful grip was preventing him from screaming out loud.

'Three little snoops'.

Afar, Crilin and Annabel didn't knew what happened to their comrade and were still walking in the direction the old man had indicated them.

«Still,» Crilin said. «This old man had a strange name.»

«Why?»

«It's not Portuguese, it's Ancient Greek. It means 'Nobod-» But Crilin never finished his explanation.

A black arrow had pounded on him from behind and had pierce his chest with so much strength it cut his body in two. When Annabel turned around, horrified, she saw the old man from before holding a large black bow, and next to him the corpse of Ernest laying on the ground!

She could not escape; the old man had already fixed another arrow in. With her trembling left hand, she reached for her right arm. Before they came in the Azores, they were given a magic signal to activate if they found out something. Annabel's was located on her right arm. If she managed to activate it, then her death would not be vain.

But she never reached it in time. The old man shot his arrow and it percuted Annabel's head, exploding it. As her body fell pitifully on the ground, the old man sighed.

 _Master, I eliminated those._

 _Well done, Archer. Come back to me now._

 _Still, I didn't need to use my Noble Phantasm to change my appearance. I could have killed them in a matter of seconds before they even had the time to react._

 _It's just a precaution. Now come back._

The old man (?) known as Archer of Black sighed again.

 _Understood, Master._

* * *

Alexander Lendric was sitting on his chair inside his office. His headquarters were located underground so he didn't have a huge bay window opening on the tropical panorama of Madagascar. Instead, the room was full of screen displaying his own base or the forest outside the entrance. Some even showed the inside of the Clock Tower! After all, what was the point of having spies infiltrate their opponent's base if he couldn't even peek in it?

Well, it was also thanks to this that he could catch a glimpse of the Servants of Red's abilities.

Saber of Red's identity wasn't hard to find out. Unfortunately, his legend didn't give him any exploitable weakness. Moreover, him having a B rank Master made him an someone worth keeping an eye on. He couldn't tell about Lancer of Red. His Master wasn't exceptional and his identity remained unknown, but a feeling in Alexander's guts was telling him not to underestimate him.

However, Archer of Red was the real mystery. Although her Master was a little girl, her stats were abnormally high. He hadn't managed to guess anything about her identity yet, but there was no doubt she was a top class Heroic Spirit if she could boast such high stats without being in the Berserker class. Right now, along with Saber of Red she was the greatest threat from the Red Faction.

Aside from the three Knight Class, Caster of Red looked particular but wasn't an immediate threat. He didn't knew what to think of Assassin yet, same for Rider. And finally, there was Berserker. Once again they didn't have much information about him, except that his Master wasn't even a magus. In that regard, it was normal that the Clock Tower made her summon Berserker. But that also meant she didn't have any tie with the Mage's Association. Depending on what her reason to participe was, there was a possibility for New Edge to recruit her.

«Master.» A voice spoke up behind Alexander.

The boss of New Edge turned around to look at his Servant. The Heroic Spirit of Assassin was over two metres tall and was fully clad in black, so that he looked like a big shadow. He was wearing a mask giving him the face of a red demons, which was probably what he looked like underneath. The man known as Assassin of Black was kneeling down, waiting for Alexander's approval before talking.

«What is it, Assassin?»

«Lancer and Rider have been summoned. The Black Faction is now complete.»

«I see...» Alexander mused. «Tell me, what are you thoughts on them?»

«Rider is turbulent and obviously cannot cooperate, but if we cosy him that should not be a problem. And about Lancer, it's better to see what she's worth on the battlefield.»

«He he he.» Alexander chuckled. He and Assassin were very alike in the end. That's why the Grail chose him to be his Servant, after all. He had been quite surprised to summon a Japanese Heroic Spirit, but as an Assassin he fit perfectly into his class. And his skills **Monstrous Strength** and **Expert of Many Specialization** **s** were quite appreciable too.

Suddenly, someone knocked at the door and entered immediatly. It was Loïa Beddway, his secretary. And behind her, Caster of Black, her Servant, was following. Caster was an Persian woman wearing red and purple clothes befitting of a queen, along with somptuous jewelry. Her calm face displayed her wisdom and her eyes were glittering with intelligence. Not unlike Caster of Red, New Edge's Caster wasn't an actual magus nor a witch.

«Mr. Lendric,» Loïa said. «Miss Arbonnaux has come back from her... 'expedition'.»

«I know about that. She's actually in the library with her Servant and that girl she brought with her.»

«You need to lecture her, sir. Not only getting so close to the magi from the Clock Tower was reckless of her, but she only did so to kidnap a girl. You need to show her that she is not free of doing whatever she wants.»

Always as didactical, huh? Alexander had known Loïa longer than Bruno or any person on his side. And yet she was always as formal with her childhood friend. Well, she still didn't miss an occasion to point out his mistakes or what he should do. It was recomforting somehow.

«You're right.» Alexander got up and walked up to the door. «Let's go grab a book.»

Though, he was less going there to lecture Silvelune than out of curiosity for the girl she kidnaped.

* * *

The library was the biggest room of the their headquarters. There was at least one book for every subjects. There even were some the single originals of several books, some of them being about magecraft. And as ridiculous as it may sound, a third of the books and documents present here had been given to them by a single person. A book lover that could name almost all the writers that ever existed. It was a scary person, in more than one way.

«How are you doing, Miss Arbonnaux?» Alexander called out to the blond beauty in a wheelchair reading a book.

«Oh? If it isn't our dear Alexander.» Silvelune answered with a smirk after raising her head from her book.

On a huge long red table next to her, a figure was laying unconscious. It was the girl Silvelune kidnaped only a day ago. She was barely breathing and with her arms crossed, one could think she was dead. But of course she was alive. There was no point in coming back with a dead corpse.

«Miss Arbonnaux-»

«Are you gonna lecture me, boss?» The girl interrupted him and her smirk widened.

«… There is that too. However, I have to admit I am curious about her. What kind of person is she for you to risk your cover? You may have a Servant but I'm sure you didn't forget your condition. If a magus had discovered that you are on my side, they could have killed you.»

«I don't need you to remind me. You say you're just curious, but I know you. If Maria happened to be my weakness, you wouldn't hesitate in using her to take care of me if I become an hindrance.»

«He. Indeed you know me well. But you wouldn't be against giving me her name, would you?»

After all, even with just her name he could find out who she was and what was her relationship with Silvelune.

«…You…you're probably imagining another way of taking me down, aren't you?»

«That is the price for being even more crafty than I am, Miss Arbonnaux.» Alexander allowed himself to laugh a little. «Now, do you mind?»

«…Not at all. This girl is my friend: Maria Argas.»

Alexander froze for a couple of seconds. Argas? Maria Argas? No, that was too much. Did this girl really went out all by herself to destroy a boat full of enemies and bring back the relative of two Masters of the Red Faction? Just because she wanted to have one girl by her side?! No, that was too much. Alexander burst out laughing. Silvelune didn't lose her smirk and went back to reading her book.

However, Alexander's laughter was interrupted by a growling. When he looked at the orgine of the noise, he saw Berserker of Black sat on a chair and writting frenziedly inside a a book with a red leather cover. For a madman he didn't seem to have any problem to write. Or maybe that was the point?

«…Miss Arbonnaux...» Alexander started. «…This Berserker...»

«Surprised? Well, I didn't knew either that he became an Heroic Spirit. Originally, I intended to summon a Servant without a catalyst like you did. However, I had this» She raised the book she was holding. «with me during the summoning. Who could have guessed he had made a contract with the Earth?»

«…Indeed. With our Caster we now have two storytellers in our faction.»

«Is it a problem, really? Stories are just as important as the real deal. Without them, Heroic Spirits wouldn't even exist. In a way, stories can sometimes be on the same level as True Magic.»

«It sounds like you thought a lot about it.» Alexander mused. «But how can I trust his efficiency on the battlefield if he isn't even a proper Heroic Spirit?»

«You better not laugh at him. For now, he may be even weaker than your shinobi, but he has the best Noble Phantasm. He can become the strongest.»

«If you say so.» Alexander turned around and headed for the exit.

«What about your lecture? Is that it?»

«Let's forget about the lecture for now, given that you didn't disadvantage us.»

On the contrary. Deep in his mind, Alexander was thanking Silvelune for bringing back an hostage.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading! Well, this is most likely the second longest chapter I've ever made. And it came out a day later than expected. Sorry!_

 _So, after the Red Faction in the first chapter, you've now seen the Black Faction and their Servants. Let's talk about the Servants. I revealed the true name of Lancer already, though you may understand why. It's actually pretty funny that I chose Brynhildr (or Brünehilde) as a Lancer, as I remember some people saying she would be more fit in the Rider or Saber class. I've given so many hint about Rider of Black's identity that I may as well have shouted his name, but it's more fun to see who actually know him. I gave little to no hints whatsoever about Assassin's identity. I have to confess though that rather than **Monstrous Strength** , **Innocent Monster** would probably have fitted him better, but another Servant already had it._

 _And now Berserker, a Counter Gardian, so a custom Heroic Spirit. I wonder how it will go but I guess there's no way to know until I try._

 _Thank you for all your reviews last time, I'm happy to see that most of the Servants of Red (except Lancer and Berserker) had their identity found out. I'm looking forward to see if you can reconize those of Black now._

 _And finally, here are some Servant profile that will be updated as the story goes on._

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	4. Chapter III: Snow White-Last Players

_A/N: A little correction for chapter 1: Lancer of Red didn't lead two hundred men against an army six times superior but sixty times superior. My bad._

* * *

 **Chapter III: Snow White/Last Players**

* * *

 _Curse them!_

In this place all was curse. Over seven billions of curses dwelling inside the Holy Grail.

 _Curse them! Curse them!_

He was nothing more than the incarnation of evil, a concentration of curses.

 _Curse them! Curse them! Curse them!_

Yet, this concentration of seven billions of curses emitted one more curse.

 _Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them!_

One refused his offer and abandoned his dream of saving the world. He cursed him and chose another man whose wish was to destroy the world.

 _Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them!_

Another was about to be submerged in curses but repelled him with his will. He refused him and along with that woman knight, he tried to destroy him.

 _Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them!_ _Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them!Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them!_

But he had failed! He didn't manage to completely destroy him! He was now scattered around the world, incomplete! By chance, one day, an idiot who could hear his voice passed by, listened to him and helped him to start this ultimate Holy Grail War.

His role as a wish granter remained the same, but what happened twelve years ago was the straw that broke the camel's back! No more wish! Right now, twenty-one human were fighting to see their wish granted, but he won't accept it!

Seven for the Greater Grail!

Seven for him!

And finally seven to plunge the world in eternal darkness under a black sea of curses!

 _Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them!Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them! Curse them!_

Ah?

It seemed that one more fool had joined the battle. Very well. He shall take his curse as well upon destroying the world for good

* * *

 **Vatican, Italy**

Winter always was mild but it was even more warm this year than usual. Vatican city, the state of the Holy See and the smallest state in the world, wasn't an exception. The streets were calm and people were enjoying their weekend. However, not everyone could do the same.

Walking in the streets was a woman with a lime green bobbed hair style. She was simply wearing a black priest's robe and a golden cross around her neck. The woman known as Orianna Levent had an annoyed expression on her face. When the Church was told about an unexpected sixth Holy Grail War, all the members of the Assembly of the Heighth Sacrament were convoker at St. Peter's Basilica. Orianna was one of them.

When she arrived at the basilica, she was welcomed by a familiar face. A man wearing the same clothes as her with an undying giant grin on his face.

«Finally! You're late, Orianna.» Frank Castigo greeted.

«You don't seem angry though.» She coldly replied. «You still have this evil grin of your.»

«Ha ha! You look in a good mood. But all the others already arrived so we better not lose time chatting.» And with that he headed inside the basilica.

Orianna followed him in. It was the third time she came here but she still had her breath taken away by the beauty of the place. The light illuminated the inside of the basilica from the ceiling and a serene atmosphere reigned. The meeting location was, of course, a secret place away from the public. After five minutes of walking in the maze of corridors, the two priest arrived in a large circular room. Inside, Orianna reconized the head of the Assembly of the Eighth Sacrament, an old man in his sixties with less and less hair each times she saw him. There were also a few tens of clerics with among them a woman with silver hair and golden eyes.

«Very well.» The old man was glaring daggers at Orianna. «Now that everyone is here, let's talk about the issue at hand. Against all expectations, a sixth Holy Grail War has started. The supervisor of the last war having died during this one, we have to designate a new one. Under normal circumstances I would have send Caren Hortensia, but...» The head didn't finish his sentence.

Orianna, Frank and the others knew however what he meant as they had received some informations beforehand -or else Orianna wouldn't have bothered to come in the first place-. The Holy Grail wasn't at Fuyuki anymore. As such, the war that used to be limited to the city was now on a global scale. In this situation, having a supervisor for the war was virtually impossible.

«It would have been easier if the participants could agree on a designated battlefield, but I doubt we have this luxury. Even with a hundred priest it would not be an easy task, but we have to do it the best we can. As such...»

«I must stop you there.» Everyone turned in direction of the door as an unknown voice spoke up.

There, in the frame of the door was standing an old man with a white and red robe holding a huge titleless leather-bound book. Apprantly he was an uninvited guest as the head took out three black keys from under his robe.

«Who are you ?!» The head exclaimed. «What are you doing here?!»

Everyone -except Orianna- was ready to jump at the old man and cut his throat if needed. But the old man waved his hand in negative.

«I am not your enemy, father. Allow m to present myself: I am the mediator designated by the Grail to supervise this sixth Holy Grail War -Servant Ruler.»

«Ruler?» The hed seemed to relax a little. «You say you're the official mediator of the war? But it's the rôle of the Church to send an overseer.»

«Normally that is. The Greater Grail feels that its authority his being encroached, and has decided to summon me; Servant Ruler or, as you could say, John of Patmos.»

«John of Patmos?!»

Everyone in the room reacted in surprise. Everyone at the exception of Orianna.

«Hey, who's John of Patmos?» She asked Frank in a low voice.

«Come on, Orianna. The old man would get mad at you if you asked him that.»

«It doesn't answer my question.»

«Well, John of Patmos is the man who wrote the Book of Revelations.»

«I see.» Having such a character with them sure was something -though Orianna didn't really cared.

«Listen to me please.» Ruler asked them. «As I said, I'll be the mediator of this war. However I'd need your help nonetheless.»

* * *

Orianna left St. Peter's Basilica. Ruler had asked the Church's help in case Masters wished to give up the fight. So that the said Masters could reach a safe ground as soon as possible, the head had decided to dispatch the member of the Assembly in different churchs around the world. In Orianna's case, she just had to head back to Notre-Dame de Paris.

«Orianna.» A voice rose just behind her and she jumped a little in surprise.

«What do you want more, Frank?» She asked in an annoyed tone to the priest who sneaked up behind her.

«Nothing in particular. I just wanted to talk a little.»

«I have no time for your idiocies, you sneaky priest.» She started walking again. She had almost reached the exit when Frank spoke again.

«Orianna…Remember that you have to be impartial.»

Orianna stopped walking.

«What do you mean?»

«Nothing, really. I just wanted to make sure you don't forget that you cannot favour participants. One of your friends is a Master, right? If I recall, his name is Argas?»

«You sure are informed. But I know my job better than you. And I doubt Michael needs my help anyway.»

«If you say so~. But don't forget that you cannot act for your own motives either.» Orianna turned around to look at the priest with a furious expression. «How long has it been? Twelve years? Now that the Grail is back, I'm sure you're thinking of a way to destroy it. Or would you rather use it to reviv-»

«You better learn when to shut your fucking mouth, you sneaky bastard!» She shouted. Frank stopped talking but his grin didn't leave his face.

«He he. As you wish~.» And Frank headed outside the basilica. «I have to go back to Madrid. See ya.»

…

Orianna stood a moment in front of the exit without saying anything. Finally, she sighed and headed outside in turn.

* * *

 **Three weeks ago**

 **?, Russia**

The girl was walking through the street at night. At this time of the year, the whole region was covered in snow and the ambient temperature was -8 degree Celcius. The gril was wearing a thick grey coat with a hood, hiding most of her feature. In her hands she was holding a long object wrapped up in a black fabric tightly as if her life depended on it.

The street she was in was a back alley, a place dangerous, especially at night. As if to prove it, the girl was suddenly surrounded by four grown up men. They all had the face of a wolf spotting a sheepfold. One of them took out a knife out of his pocket and approached the girl slowly.

«It's not safe around here at night, little lady. Do you mind if we escort you to your home?» The four men laughed. The girl was alone and wthout any mean to protect herself. «Moreover it is cold outside. But I'm sure we can find a way to warm ourselves.» He moved his hand to grab the packaged object. «But first you should let go of this.»

But when the man touched the object in her hand, the girl refused to let go.

«That doesn't belong to you.»

«Oh? What, is it something precious?»

The man kept trying to take the unknown object from the girl's hands. It was more to torment the girl than by curiosity. But the girl wouldn't let go and all the man managed to do was to remove a part of the fabric, revealing the head of a wand. Its form was similar to that of a candlestick except it looked like it was made of glass or of crystal. Now the the attention of the man was really caught. This wand looked like it had a lot of value.

The man put more strength this time. Apparently the girl wasn't exepcting it because there was barely any resistance. But the man didn't expect it to be this easy either. He put so much strength into it that the wand hit his chest. When it happened, the man was blown ten meters away in a flash of light and didn't move an inch after landing.

«W-What the fuck happened?!» The three other men started panicking and they took out their knifes in turn.

«You made me use it.» The girl muttured in an reging tone and her shoulder shook in anger. «You'll pay for this!»

The girl raised her left hand and this one was suddenly set on fire. But she didn't look like she was suffering, on the opposit. She waved her hand and the flammes assaulted the three men, burning their hand and their legs. The three of them started to scream in pain and in terror but the girl, probably to silence them, manipulated the fire again to make it enter their throat and burn their inside. They couldn't even scream anymore as it felt their body was melting in the heat. In less than a minute, they were dead.

«I'm sorry...» The girl muttured to herself as she wrapped the head of the wand again. «I'm sorry I had to use it...»

The girl walked away from the burnt blackened body and sang to herself.

Later, Evangeline Golodiaïev arrived in a room where she took off her thick coat which revealed her features. She had very short purple hair and white snow skin. She was wearing black glasses and a blue cloack reminding a priest's robe.

She took out a couple of foxes from a cage nearby and a knife from a shelf. With it she beheaded the two foxes and she used their blood to draw a summoning circle on the floor. She carefully unwrapped the wand in its entirety. The handle was exactly like the head as if it was made of one single piece. Some words were written in golden on its handle. She placed it in front of the summoning circle and began to recite the incantations.

 _«Let silver and steel be the essence_

 _Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation._

 _Let **white** be the color I pay tribute to._

 _Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall._

 _Let the four cardinal gates close._

 _Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdome rotate._

 _Let it be declared now;_

 _your flesh shall serve under me and my fate shall be with your sword._

 _Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail._

 _Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth._

 _An oath shall be sworn here._

 _I shall attain all virtues of all heavens;_

 _I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell._

 _From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power,_

 _come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!»_

A flash of light occured and the girl coughed because of the dust in the air. When she stopped, she saw the Servant she had summoned. It was a man with rust brown hair and beard wearing a strange black and yellow coat with a rosy cross on his chest. He looked around him and then set his eyes on Evangeline.

«According to the summoning I present myself -Caster of White. Are you my Master?»

The girl bowed politely before answering.

«Good evening. I am _Soror Perago_ but you can simply call me Evangeline. I am your Master. Ah! I didn't mean that I'm superior to you! I… Um...» The girl seemed to panick a little.

«I don't mind. After all you _are_ my Master.» Caster gently waved his hand. Then, he noticed the wand laying on the floor and picked it up. «Though it's interesting to see I've been summoned by a fellow from Golden Dawn. And you even brought my master's Blasting Rod!»

«Y-Yes. I didn't knew what catalyst use and I-I thought you'd be glad to see it.»

«How thoughtfull.» Caster said with a faint smile. «Tell me what is your wish, _Soror Perago_.»

«Me?» Evangeline smiled shyly. «I want the end of the world.»

* * *

 **Present**

 **Clock Tower**

Lord El-Melloi II knocked at the huge ebony door three times before someone came to welcome him. The butler diligently led him to the underground of the mansion. There, he entered a room while El-Melloi II was waiting outside for five good minutes. When the servant came out, he wasn't alone. He was accompanied by a tall man with gray hair and beard.

«Lord El-Melloi, Welcome.» The man greeted him as the butler left them alone.

«The Second. Don't forget it.»

«Right, right.» The owner of the mansion couldn't care less visibly.

«You said you had news about the Holy Grail War, Lord Vasilia. What is it.»

Victor Vasilia, the father of Archer of Red's Master, cleared his throat.

«The magi we sent to the archipelago of the Azores sent their signal.»

«They found the Grail Shard?»

«They are most likely dead. I made the signal so it would activate if they were to die.»

Of course. El-Melloi knew what kind of man Victor Vasilia was. Magi were generally selfish bastard who could kill people without a thought. But even among them, Lord Victor was a heartless and calculating man and his reputation wasn't exactly glorious. In the same way than New Edge, he would use anything, be it human life or technology, to continue his research, and the latters was oftenly included in the process. REVOC, Assassin of Red's Master, was a good exemple of this.

«And so? What are we waiting for sending our Masters?» El-Melloi II asked.

«I'm not finished. The Azores are a confirmed location but they aren't the only ones. Some of our magi confirmed the presence of a Grail Shard in Danemark and it's only a matter of time before they find its exact location. And I wouldn't be surprised if we received other signals before long.»

«Which means that we'll need to divide our ranks to send them after the Grail Shards before the other Factions get their hands on them.» El-Melloi II understood.

«Exactly. Since we're still not sure of the where the Shard in the Azores is located exactly, we might as well send Saber and Lancer.»

«But their Masters are still inexperienced.» El-Melloi II still remembered the time when he was a Master at the Fourth War. These children too didn't knew what awaited them exactly.

«That's why they'll be accompanied by a first-rank magus. I'm not especially fond of paying the odds. As for the Danemark we'll send Rider to transport the Shard. Beserker might be a good choice too if opponents were to attack.»

El-Melloi II internaly agreed with him. If by the time they send the Masters and Servants, if the location of the Shard is found out transporting it as quickly as possible was a priority. And Berserker was a primarily offensive Servant. In that regard, having it defend Rider and his Master wasn't a bad idea.

«Lord Vasilia, I'm curious though.»

«About what subject?»

«About Archer's Master.»

Victor frowned.

«What about her?»

«Are you sure you want your daughter to participate in the war?»

Ladylee Vasilia was probably the only thing Victor really loved. And yet he let his daughter take part in a battle royal with three times the usual number of participants, and risk her life.

«Hmpf.» Victor snorted. «I am to only act behind the scene, but it is my daughter who will receive the glory of taking part in this event. Plus you don't seriously think I wouldn't keep cards up my sleeve. I am the one who asked you to manipulate the contract the same way the original El-Melloi did. And that's one of the reason I allow this dog to stay beside her.»

The 'dog' Victor was talking about was the blue-haired servant that followed Archer's Master everywhere, Laurent. El-Mellloi II didn't knew much about him, except that Victor 'upgraded' him. Of course, the magus Victor Vasilia didn't consider the young man an actual human and El-Melloi suspected that Ladylee is actually the real reason he didn't dispose of him already.

«And if you worry about her Servant's proficiency, I'll let you know that her magic circuit are of excellent quality. Not only that but we made sure to select one of our best Catalyst for her. Our Archer is even stronger than the Saber the young Argas summoned.»

It sounded like the magus had planned anything. In fact, he probably did.

* * *

 **Tokyo, Japan**

«Huuuuuuge.»

Amid the crowd filling the streets of Ikebukuro, a man was watching the city open-mouthed.

«Just how huge is this place?! It's way bigger than Bedburg!» The man said in astonishment.

It was a middle-aged man wearing a black coat like those gangsters wear in crime movies and he had a silvery belt around the waist. It was normally meant to help him to go unnoticed, but if it wasn't for the crowded streets he would be easy-to-spot. And his cherry pink hair as well as the big sunglasses he was wearing didn't help in that regard.

But what was the most striking among his outfit was the monkey -a chimpanzee more precisely- clutching at his back. At first it looked like a simple monkey with a black fur, but this monkey had three red marks on his back shaped like a hamsa. If that wasn't suspicious enough, the monkey started talking.

«It's not the moment for your virgin eyes to be impressed!»

Yes, the monkey really did talk. Now, chimpanzee were reputed to be the most intelligent animals in the world. They could make and use tools, party hunt and even learn words and symbols to communicate. But Pim Point, the monkey actually on Assassin of White's shoulder, was clearly far more intelligent than that. It was almost as if he had a human mind in his little monkey body.

«Hey, don't call me a virgin! I'll have you know that I've slept with a succubus once.» Assassin of White complained.

«That's not what I meant, you idiot.»

Passer-bys were looking at the two while laughing, especially children. They probably though Assassin was some kind of ventriloquist and was repeating for a show.

«Aren't you a little too impressionable for an Assassin? I'm starting to lose faith.»

«Come on, don't say that. Have you seen all the different kind of people here?»

«Yeah, so?»

«...» Assassin had a carnivorous smile on his face and was drooling. «Just looking at them makes me hungry. Oh, but I have to wait for the night, right?» He somehow managed to pull himself together. «But is it alright? Don't we have to find those 'Grail Shards' or something?»

Pim Point chuckled -or what is closer to chuckling for a monkey.

«Remember what Ivan said?»

«Yeah.» Assassin's grin widened. «'Do whatever you want'.»

* * *

This island wasn't very popular to start with because of some local legend. In surface, it was just a small tropical island optimal for holidays, but people thinks there are ghosts on it since twelve years ago and thus there was no business to do. It had become even worse recently since tourists went on the island and never came back. A group went on the island but came back saying there was nothing.

It was why Timeo and his boss were on the case. The two of them were pretty famous detectives and when they heard about this disparition, none of them had bought it. Now, they were on a small boat dashing to the so-called 'curse island'.

«At first sight nothing seems off.» Timeo noted.

«Of course. If you could tell so easily that something was wrong people like us wouldn't be needed.»

«But sir, do you really think there are ghost on this island?»

«Of course not! But people did disappear on it. In my opinion the culprit are already gone but if there are any hint, it must be on this island.»

«But the group which searched for the missing tourists said they found nothing suspicious. The culprits probably aren't half-assed criminals if they didn't leave anything behind.»

«Come on, Tim. We've already taken care of impossible cases, don't forget.»

«You're right.» Timeo laughed. «Although we were probably just lucky.»

«Being lucky isn't a bad thing with this job.»

About ten minutes later, the two detectives arrived on the island. Just as they were told, the island looked completely normal. As they were looking around for clues, Timeo's boss called him.

«Tim! Come over here, I think I found something!»

When Timeo arrived next to him, his boss pointed at the ground a dozen of metres ahead of them. There were footprints in the sand and on the dirt which headed for the forest.

«These are very recent. We're supposed to be alone on this island as it is closed to visitors.»

«That means-»

«Yes. Whoever is in the forest right now is probably linked to this incident.»

«But if there really are people on the island, why weren't they found out already?»

«Superstition. None of the residents, not even the police, would usually dare to walk into the forest. Tim! Do you have the map the residents gave us?»

«Yes!» Timeo rummaged through his backpack and took out the large piece of paper, before handing it to his boss.

«There!» His boss pointed at a location on the map. «There's a cave around there, right?»

«Ah, yes! When I asked about it, they said it was the kingdom of ghosts.»

«Then it's where we have the biggest chance to find our culprits. Let's go, Tim!»

«Yes!» The two of them stood up and started walking into the thick forest.

And after only thirty seconds, they already found someone extremely suspicious standing in their way. The person in front of them was a man so tall he could have grabbed a lion and squeeze it under his arm. He had black spiky and blood red eyes, and his giant body was very muscular. His right fist was placed on his hip and in his left hand he was holding a strange spear. It was a pitch black spear that looked as it was made of one single piece of black metal. His appearance aside, this giant of a man loked rather displeased at the presence of the two detectives.

Just by seeing the stranger, Timeo was completely frozen. It was as much because of his outter appearance than his charisma. His single presence was enough to make Timeo feel insignifiant. His boss, however, had managed not to flinch and his hand dived into his coat to take out his gun.

«Who are you?!» He shouted at the man. The latter moved his gaze from Timeo who somehow felt relieved of it.

«I am a king, what else?» The man grumbled. «Though my actual label is 'Lancer of White'.»

«Sure...» Timeo's boss said, incredulous. «So, Mr. 'Lancer of White', what are you doing here and why?» He still had his gun pointed at the man. No matter how great and muscular, a bullet was a bullet.

«That is none of your concern, rabbid dog.» Lancer of White replied in a harsh tone. «Seriously, if it wasn't for the orders I would have killed you already!»

«Calm down, big baddy!» Timeo's boss threatened. «You're gonna follow us in town and answer our questions.»

«As if.» Lancer snorted. « **You cannot see me.** »

«!»

Timeo blinked. In front of them, Lancer had simply vanished in the air like he had never been here. When he took a look athis boss, Timeo saw that he was confused too and he suddenly fired in front of him.

« **There is nothing in particular on this island. You've never seen me. You have no reason to be here. Go back.** »

Yes. Why were they here in the first place? They had nothing to do on this island. Timeo and his boss walked away from the forest. They arrived on the beach and, before getting on the boat, Timeo turned around and looked at the forest. What had happened there already?

After they're gone, Lancer of White let out an irritated sigh.

 **Unified Language**.

The language of ancient Babylonia, a time when no other languages existed and no distinction was made between the speeches of humans, creatures, and living and non-living things. The "truth" spoken before humans became scattered across the world can directly draw from the records, memories, and phenomena recorded by the world. Those who hear it must obey it unquestioningly. Rejecting these words would be rejecting their own existance.

* * *

On the center of the island, there was a cave of white chalk leading to a wide circular cave with a huge hole in the ceiling. In the middle, there was a chunk of chalk and, embedded into it, a Grail Shard. A man was standing in front of it, humming. Both his hair and his beard were half white, half orange.

Ivan Pedilefey, the Sealing Designate.

Behind him was his Servant, Saber of White. He was a tall muscular man with ruby red hair and wearing a partially armored dark green sleeveless bodysuit. He was holding a sword resting on his shoulder. It was a long sword with an azure hilt and a golden handle. Though this sword looked extremely real, it was nothing more than a wooden dummy, a replicate to hide his shame of having the original stole once. On his other arm was a round red wooden shield that was, this time, the genuine artifact.

«I've had enough of this shit!» Lancer of White roared as he entered the cavern. He wasn't only addressing to Ivan, but to everyone present.

Sat on a rock, a man at least two metres tall was holding his chin in his hand in boredom. If one saw him they could easily mistake him with an actual Heroic Spirit: aside from his imposing size, he was fully clad in a golden armor except the helmet. His long green hair were tied into a braid and his eyes were completely black. But this man, Savrance Harco, was no Heroic Spirit but Lancer of White's Master.

«What is it, Lancer?» Savrance asked in a bored tone.

«Why do I have to use my Unified Language to keep people away?! I am a king, dammit!»

«We can't help it. If too many people were to come here now, it would catch the other Factions' attention.»

«That is your fault, you blood-sucking idiot! If you didn't uselessly kidnap those plebeians to suck their blood nobody would have noticed us! By the way, why are we staying here? Why don't we just take the Grail Shard and go away?»

«That is because this island is our base.» It was Ivan who answered Lancer's question. «Don't be impatient, I already started to make the ark.»

As Lancer was gritting his teeth in anger, a mocking voice rose from he other side of the cavern.

«Tired of waiting, King of Tyrants?»

The one who pronounced these words was a young man in his early twenties with a slightly taned skin and messy blond hair. He was wearing a black pants which seemed made of a precious fabric; on the other hand, his clothes weren't covering his chest nor his stomach. He had the same supernatural presence than Lancer, emphasized by the jewelries of gold and precious stones he was wearing.

«You got a problem, Rider?» Lancer asked Rider of White in a dangerous tone. «You prefer to wait here rather than hunting down all these dogs in one go?»

«I'd say you like hunting a bit to much, for a king. You look like an enraged dog, how unsightly!» The Rider of White looked down on Lancer with a taunting look. «You should take exemple on this King of Heavens.»

«You? King of Heavens? Don't make me laugh! You're just another one of these cocky kids who thinks of my kingdom as my property! By the way, where is your Master, King of Fools?»

«Oh, him?» Ivan intervened again. «He went out to do groceries. I've got to say, you guys consume a lot of food.»

«Groceries?» Lancer snorted. «What a ridiculous idea! I can easily go and hunt down a whole feast for us in no times!»

«I already told you, you like hunting too much.» Rider repeated. «Searching for food isn't the king's role.»

«I don't take lesson from a little king like you!»

«Ho?» Rider replied in a challenging tone. «Then how about we find out now who is the little king, unsightly King of Tyrants?»

Lancer was about to pounce on Rider with all his might, but was stopped before doing so by Saber.

«Now, you guys should stop fighting.» He said in a conciliatory tone. «We all are kings after all. We should respect each other as such.»

«Hmph!» Lancer shrugged angrily. «You may be called a king, Saber, but the lands you ruled were but a province! Even this kid» He pointed at Rider. «is more of a king than you are.»

Rather than losing his temper at the insult, Saber decided to let it slide. His code of chevalry didn't include proving his status with brute strength, especially since he lost said status.

«If you gauge kingship by the extent of one's land, then why not ask Archer? She did have an empire.»

«This brat?» Lancer seemed to think for a moment. «You have a point there, Knight of the Red Branch. Very well! Let's ask her what she thinks of it! Where is she, actually? Don't tell that she reduced herself to do the groceries?!»

«No. I think she must be on the shore or somewhere on the island with her Master.» Savrance finally decided to talk, but with a bored tone fitting his expression. «About that, this kid doesn't stop to make her presents. Did he have a crush or something?»

«Ha ha ha! I doubt it.» Ivan laughed. «He is just obeying his Origin. He gives but cannot take.»

* * *

«Archer! Look what I've found!»

On the island's shore, Chris Mantel was running around, exited as he was holding something in his hands. He was a twelve-year-old boy with apricot hair wearing modern clothes. Nothing on his innocent face would have let you guess that he was a magus.

«What is it, Master?»

Sitting on a rock shdowed by the palm trees, Archer of White was lazing around. She was a woman with long golden hair and sapphir blue eyes. She was wearing a white tunic with golden jewelery, and her legs were covered in a light golden armor. A shining metal chain was winded around her left arm. When Chris ran up to Archer, he showed her a white seashell a little covered on sand.

«I found this buried in the sand! I wonder if there' something inside...» The boy tried opening the seashell but was unsuccessful. «Aah, it won't open.»

Archer sighed and lend her hand to Chris. The latter handed the seashell to her with sparkling eyes, wondering what kind of trick she would use. Of course, she didn't need any trick. She just had to use a little of her superhuman strength to force it open.

«Waah.» The boy was impressed by his Servant's success. «You're awesome, Archer!»

«Not really. A normal adult could do it so I don't see why I should have any problem.»

She gave back the opened seashell to the impressed boy, who peeked inside to see if there was anything.

«Hey! There's something! It's beautiful!» His hand dived into it and came out with a big white pearl. He looked at it with amazement before handing it to Archer. «There! You helped me open it so I'll give you that!»

Archer accepted the present with an uninterested look. She had been told her Master's Origin was Gift, but it was still the sixth since she had been summoned. She accepted them all though, mainly because Chris was just a child -and displeasing a child never ended well.

«Ah! I almost forgot.» Chris dashed to his backpack he had left farther on the beach. When he came back, he was holding a large black book. «I found what you asked for! It was master Ivan who had it.»

This time, a light lit inside of Archer's eyes as she took the book in her hands. The title of the book was simply ' _World History_ ' without even the author's name. Archer opened it and began reading passionately with the eyes of a child. As she turned the pages at an incredible speed, Chris smiled, happy that his gift pleased her. She was only (?) halfway in the book when she stopped reading and closed the book.

«Thank you, Master.» She said with a faint smile. She beholded the book with a somewhat nostalgic expression. «It's been two thousand six hundred and fourty-three years since my death. So many thing happened during this time...» Her smile faded. «And so many kings that died.»

«Say, Archer. Why are you never with the other kings? If you like history, having those who lived it nearby should be interesting for you.»

«I don't think so. Unlike what you seem to think, kings rarely like each other, and for good reasons. Being king is a hassle.»

«Really? But isn't it awesome to rule a kingdom?»

«No...not really. In fact, I would have rather not become king. Nobody expected me to in the first place. I mean look at me, did you expect me to be a woman?» Archer let out a bitter chuckle.

Chris shook his head with his usual innocent look. As the saying goes, ignorance is bliss.

«Both Rider and Lancer claim to be the kings of the world and they cannot stand each other because of this. All the kings are enemies and try to get in the way of the others. Even I, during my reign, had to be so strict to keep my place on the throne that I became famous for it.» She took a look at the chain at her left arm. «And this chain is here to remind me of it.»

«So, your wish for the Grail is to never having become a king?»

«That sounds like music at my ears…but no.» She opened the book again and she passed her fingertip on a precise passage. «My reign and all the feats I did during my life are just a small fragment of history, but it's still here nonetheless. I am not to regret what happened.»

Chris looked at her with sparkling eyes. What she just said probably sounded cool to him. Oh, whatever. In the end, her rambling wasn't his problem.

* * *

This sure was a tiny world. Four walls, a straiway leading nowhere and a barred window. A twenty square metres grey room, filled with almost nothing, not even a blanket to protect from the cold. Yet, this girl was there, like a white stain in the midle of the dark paint. She was beautiful, like an angel, and probably just as much pure; for the very reason she only knew her tiny world. Her skin white like snow, her left eye red and her right eye purple. Most of her hair was pure white but a part above her right eye was dark brown. It was cold, yet she wasn't shivering. It was dark, yet she was like a sun in her cell. Kneeling in front of her window, reaching out her hand through the bars toward the starry sky, she closed her hands as if to take a part of this other world.

«I wonder, could I grasp a star like a flower?» She asked with a crystal-clear voice. «What do you think of it?»

She turned her head to look at the armor as white as her skin standing behind her.

«Berserker?»

* * *

 _Third and last chapter of the Red-Black-White trinity. So, with this chapter you've seen the last Masters and Servants, as well as some outsiders and a Ruler. Originally, only Saber of Black was genderbent but I changed my mind for Archer of White._

 _I hope I didn't rush this chapter but I had to finish it before the end of the week, because in a couple day I'll be gone for a while in a place without internet nor any way to write on a computer. I was planning to do a break after this chapter anyway, in order to correctly organize the serie (which up until now wasn't completely ready)._

 _With this third chapter, we've seen more than fourty-two characters, and I apologize forthose who have problems remembering. I'll add a list at some occasion to help you._

 _I thank you for reading and for cheering me, and don't hesitate to review!_

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	5. Chapter IV: AEDD 1

Chapter IV: At the End of the Day, a Dream 1

* * *

It was a strange feelings, as if the scene in front of him was real, but not him. It was as if he shouldn't be there and didn't belong to that place. In fact, it was probably the case.

The place Leo was in was the interior of a nunnery or a church. Two rows of benchs were framing a long red carpet going from the door to the altar. On these benchs, a group of nuns were sitting and watching the scene in front of them with radiant smiles as if it was the most beautiful day of their life.

In front of the altar, a tall knight with long purple hair and a beautiful pale face was smiling as well. He was smiling, a sword in his hand, looking at the young man kneeling in front of him. Apparently, they were about to proceed to an adoubement. But who was the future knight kneeling in front of the older man? Leo immediatly reconized the appearance of Saber of Red.

He was a bit younger and lacked any armor, sword or shield. Because of that, he could only reconize him to his short purple hair and his face. Though the later was younger, he could find the purity and the incredible calmness that struck him the first time he saw him.

"Are you ready?" The older knight asked in a gentle but firm voice.

"I am, Sir Lancelot." Saber answered.

Somehow, maybe because of their link, he could sense what Saber was feeling right now. His mind was filled with the honor of being knighted by a knight of the Round Table. It should have been the most thrilling moment of his life, the ceremony during which he would finally become a knight!

Yet, all Leo felt in the knight-in-the-making's heart was an absolute calm. He had been prapared all his life for this moment, teached humility and kindness in a nunnery since his first years; he already had all the qualities of a pure knight. He didn't have a fiery soul that dreamed to journey around the country, rescue damsel in distress and fight for his country. He didn't have this lively sparkle in his eyes that all young people usually had, that inspired them love and bravery. He was a diamond where the 0.1% of impurity had disappeared.

Sir Lancelot raised his sword and took a step in Saber's direction. With a slow movement, he laid the blade of his sword on Saber's right shoulder. He then gently lifted the sword just enough to pass over Saber's head and laid the blade on his left shoulder. Finally, Sir Lancelot withdrew the sword and put it back in its scabbard with a graceful movement.

"Arise, Sir." As he said that, Saber stood up on his legs and looked right into Sir Lancelot's eyes. When he did, Leo noticed how much the two knights looked alike, not only for the hair color but also their fine features. Of course, he knew that Lancelot was Saber's father. Yet, his heart was hesitant, because Saber himself ignored that fact. "From this day on, you'll be serving your king and his country. You will defend those in need and strike down evil. From this day on, you are a knight, Sir Galahad."

The scenery changed. They were now in the street of a medieval town in the middle of a great celebration. From nowhere, Leo knew that they were in Camelot and that today was Pentecost. He was following Saber, still wearing no equipment, who was himself following an old knight. Saber was looking right and left with amazement. It was the first time he went to a city, having rarely left the nunnery.

"So this is Camelot..." Saber muttered under his breath.

Somehow the old knight leading him heard these words, or maybe he had noticed Saber's wide-opened eyes. He let out a small, soft laugh, as if he had the same reaction the first time he came here.

"It's big, isn't it? You haven't seen the most important though."

"Really? Where are we heading?"

"To the Round Table, young knight. I have to present you to King Arthur."

Indeed, as he said those words they were entering the castle of the legendary king of Britain. The fortress itself was even more impressive than the city. Leo had seen some castles in France, but none of them matched with this one. He felt Saber's heart starting to race, if only a little.

"Why presenting me to the king? I am just a recent knight without any fame nor achievement. I am not worthy of meeting him and his knights."

Saber asked this question with a composed voice, but Leo knew that Saber felt unfairness. Not for him nor for anyone he knew, but for all the knights that dreamed to meet King Arthur yet couldn't. It was the feeling of not being worthy enough to receive more than other. It was truly an admirable feeling. Yet it wasn't the thought that appeared in Leo's mind.

The old knight stopped walking to turn around and look at Saber with warm eyes. When he spoke, his voice was gentle and didn't have any hint of doubt in it.

"I can assure you that you are more than worthy of meeting him. You are a promise of hope, young knight, and your fate is to be great among the greats, yet pure among the pures."

Saber tilted his head, not understanding what the old knight meant but he didn't have time to ask him as the latter started walking again and passed behind a huge door. He hurried to follow him and, when he passed the door in turn, his eyes opened wide in amazement.

The room he arrived in was incredibly wide and luxurious. The ground was covered on red and golden carpets; tapesries were covering the wall, showing various scenes from stories and poems about chevalry; on the middle of the room, taking an incredible amount of space, was a wide circular table with an even more incredible amount of seats. It was the Round Table famed in the legends. Leo looked at the table that could very well have been a whole circus, and thought about the catalyst he used to summon Saber. 'Shard of the Round Table' was actually very accurate, as Leo was unable to know where this shard would go.

But it wasn't the room in itself that impressed Saber, it was the people in it. On each seats at the exception of one, a knight in shining armor was sitting. The view of all those heros of legend made both Leo and Saber stood in awe. Little did the latter know that soon enough he would be sitting there as well. However...

"In the the name of Arthur Pendragon, king of this court, I ask of you to name yourself." A strong voice echoed from the farther seat, the one of the king.

There was sitting... a woman.

Leo was sure he wasn't mistaken. The one sitting in the seat of the king was a young woman in her late teens with golden hair and an elegant face. She was wearing a shining metal armor over a old style blue dress as well as a large blue cloak.

He didn't knew if it was a joke or something but none of the knights sitting around the table seemed to disagree with her being King Arthur. Even Saber didn't have any problem with that. It was understandable however. The woman known as King Arthur definitely gave off the aura of a monarch and her charisma was that of a leader.

That aside, it seemed the old knight wasn't known in this court, despit wanting to present Saber to the king. Fortunately, one of the knight sat just next to the king stood up to talk in their place. Both Saber and Leo reconized him.

"If I may, my king, I know this young man." Sir Lancelot said. "I knighted him just the day before. His name is Galahad."

Upon hearing these words, the king's face relaxed and a small smile appeared on her face.

"I see. I welcome you to my court, Sir Galahad. What brings you here?"

"If I may." The old knight talked in Saber's place. "I brought him here for an important reason."

As he said that, the old knight started walking around the table and motioned to Saber to follow him. All the knights, King Arthur included, looked at them with curiosity but, surprisingly, didn't ask them any question. The old knight led Saber to the only seat of the Round Table that wasn't taken. It looked just like the others, except that there was some inscription on it that Leo couldn't read. It wasn't hard to guess what this seat was, though.

"There, sit on this chair, young Galahad." The old knight showed the seat to Saber.

At these words, all the knights sitting around the table, including King Arthur, reacted in protestation.

"Are you mad?! Don't you know this is the Siege Perilous? Any knight unworthy of sitting on it would simply die!"

"I know very well what this sit is, o King Arthur. That's precisely why I am here. If a knight wants to try and sit on this chair, can you refuse it?"

All the knights were shouting in protestation. All except King Arthur, who seemed to be thinking deeply. After a moment she let out her answer.

"Sir Galahad, do you really wish to sit on this chair that proved fatal to the others?"

Saber didn't answer. Without a word, he took a few step forward, look at the Siege Perilous and sat into it. Everyone present in the room were holding their breath or cursing the old knight for making a young knight sit there. All the precedent knights who tried to sit on the Siege Perilous before this day died without being able to even say a word. There was no reason for it to be any different for Saber.

That's how it should have been. However...

Saber was unharmed.

He was simply sat in the Siege Perilous without anything happening to him. Nobody in the room let out a word; the silence was absolute, as if time had stopped. The old knight let out a small laugh and announced out loud:

"The knight chosen by God has arrived! I hereby declare that the quest to find and retrieve the Holy Grail has started!" And with that, he left the room to never be heard of ever again.

There was still no reaction in the room as the ceiling suddenly started to glow of a golden light, as if Heavens had descended on Earth. A golden cup emerged from the light and stopped in the middle of the Round Table, floating midair. Food and drinks appeard on the Table as if by magic and all the knights beholded the scene with amazement. King Arthur, who wasn't stunned like the others, grabbed a cup of wine and raised it.

"You all heard his words. I hereby command all the knights to go on this quest to find the Holy Grail! I raise my cup to all of you, and to Sir Galahad!"

All the knights at the exception of Saber grabbed a cup as well, stood up and raised it.

"To Sir Galahad!"

Leo turned his gaze from the scene to look at Saber. His eyes were filled with wonder, as well as his heart. But he also felt that, by sitting in this chair, he interlocked a mecanism that couldn't be stopped. At the very moment this quest had started, something had died.

* * *

"Ah-!..."

With a gasp, Leo woke up from his dream. He had worked up quite a sweat during his sleep and he was breathless even though he didn't do any physical effort. He waited for his heartbeats to calm down before sitting on his bed.

"Sigh. It happened again." He muttured under his breath.

It was the second... no, the third time he had dreamed of Saber -of Galahad's past. When he talked about it to his uncle, the latter told him that Masters and Servants shared a deep mental bond that allowed them to see each other's past in their dreams.

"I could have done without it." Leo grumbled.

He hated this feeling when he dreamed about Saber's past. The scenery in front of him always seem so real, yet it isn't, and he feels like it's backfiring on his sanity. He shook his head and looked at the bed next to his.

On it, Saber was sleeping, taken off his armor, and was wearing a brown tunic. He was still sleeping despit his noisy wake up. Leo still didn't understand why he insisted on having a bed to sleep. Not that he would have refused anyway but he had been told Servants didn't need to sleep.

'Oh, well. This is no reason not to treat him like a human being'

That's what Leo would've liked to think.

(Is he dreaming of my past right now?) Leo thought.

He'd rather he didn't. Not only his past wasn't interesting for a hero from legends, but he also considered his past as private.

'It's only fair. After all, I am too peaking on his past life'

That's what Leo would've liked to think.

But seeing those memories didn't please him at all. He hated it. Not that seeing the court of 'King' Arthur wasn't nice nor was it the disturbing feeling he had each time it happened. The reason was Saber himself. Since his summoning, all his answers and questions were said in a voice so calm it sounded robotic.

He just didn't feel human to him.

At first he had thought it was because he was a Servant, but Leo remebered how Lancer would brag about himself, how Assassin was pleased that Charles liked his tea, how Rider was welcoming when he greeted him. He couldn't find any of that with Saber.

He didn't have those details that made humans human.

If he had to describe him, it would be 'too perfect'.

Leo could share Saber's feeling when he was in his dream. Yet, all he felt was how Saber -how Galahad was too perfect a person.

"How are we alike, you and me?" He asked the sleeping Servant with a hint of despair in his voice.

It was a rethorical question of course. He doubted Saber could answer. He had been prepared from his first years to be a knight; he was destined to be the chosen one from the moment he was born; he felt how calm he was despit the situation. In his second dream, he saw his childhood at the nunnery but even back then he was already to composed and ready for whatever would heppen to him. He didn't really remember what his first dream about him was, though.

That was Galahad. A perfect knight of justice. A perfect knight, yes, but a bad human being. All Leo could consider him as was a monster who didn't feel like the rest of the human.

And he was expected to fight alongside this monster -no, correction, he was supposed to let this monster he couldn't understand himself fight for him. For what? Leo never expected to make it to the Grail. He didn't want to in the first place! He hoped he wouldn't have to do to much in this Holy Grail War, yet Saber was determined to win. For what? Simply to retrieve the Grail. He didn't have any wish he wanted granted; he just answered his call to accomplish his quest once again.

But Leo didn't feel like fighting for this goal. This determination in itself was wrong in his mind. It wasn't something he was ready to put his life on the line for.

'But I can't let him down!'

That's what Leo would've liked to think.

But...

"Dammit. It's useless to think about it now." He shook his head and tried his best to go back to sleep.

He was overacting for sure. Tons of people would just roll with it even if they couldn't grasp Saber's nature. But not Leo. He wasn't simply afraid of what Saber was.

What was it that he felt too?

Was it... frustration?

Yes, probably. When he heard that he and Saber should have pretty much alike personality, he didn't what kind of hope appeared in his heart. But...

"Idiot! I already told you it was useless to think about it."

Leo tried to stop thinking and somehow managed to go back to sleep.

* * *

In the Vasilia residence, Victor Vasilia was reading reports in his laboratory. Calling the place he was in a laboratory was sugar-coating though. The experiments led here weren't meant for science improvement.

Rather than a laboratory, it was a temple dedicated to insatiable curiosity and inflicted pain pain. In appearance, it looked like the typical lair of a witch from tales: body parts and eyes floating inside bottles; some strange liquid boiling inside a cauldron; strange tools lined up on the wall. But the real masterpiece of this temple of depravity was the big rectangular table. From the aspect of it, it looked like a torture table with shackles to immobilize the prisoner. If this room was a temple, this table was its altar. Although the sacrificial sheep wasn't on top of it, the simple idea that this altar existed sent chills down your spine.

Yet, no one cared about that.

The reports Victor was reading was about the magi sent by the Assiciation to track down the Grail Shards or the other Factions' base.

"Tch." Victor angrily threw the papers away. "You bunch of useless fools." He grumbled.

There was all the details of their expeditions, but of course nothing about a possible other location for the Grail Shards.

(Only three locations have been comfirmed in the end. There should much more than that!)

It was a problem if only three Grail Shards could be found. Because if they weren't trackable, it meant they were in their opponents' hands.

(Well, it's no use to worry about that too much. Simply having the Holy Grail don't allow to use it. As long as all there are Servants alive nothing will happen.)

It didn't make the task easier though. Securing the Grail Shards was a lot more advantaging than looking for them in the enemy's base.

(On the other hand, luring another Faction with a Grail Shard is an exploitable tactic. They wouldn't dare to attack the Clock Tower directly however...)

No, it was naive to believe that. New Edge had already declared hostilities with the Mage's Association. Being unorthodox, there's no guessing what they were able to pull off.

And there was still no information about the third Faction. The later was the most problematic because there existance wasn't certain. However, Victor highly doubted New Edge was able to put there hands on fourteen Masters. There was probably a third party in this war.

The existance of this third party could be linked with another important question: had the holy grail activated on its own or was it someone else's doing? The former was unlikely and if the later was true, any of the two other Factions could have done this.

(Of course, it doesn't cover all the possibilities. What if there is no third Faction but a bunch of lonely Masters? If that's the case, how will we find them?)

As Victor was thinking about the situation, he heard the door of the laboratory open and close. He didn't even need to turn around to guess who would enter here without knocking.

"You are late." He said as he turned around to face the newcomer.

"Excuse me, Professor." A lifeless voice answered him.

When Victore finally turned around, he saw Assassin of Red's Master, REVOC, kneeling. The young man (?) was so androgynous guessing his (?) gender was impossible -in fact, Victor had made him (?) hermaphrodit in the end.

But that didn't make him (?) any attractive physically. Simply put, he (?) would scare off anyone just by staying there.

He wasn't ugly like the creature of Frankenstein. Simply put, he looked like a walking dead corpse.

His (?) raven black long hair contrasted with his (?) chalk white skin and his (?) eyes were just as lively as his (?) voice. He (?) was wearing a large black coat, hiding the curve of his (?) body so only his (?) head was visible. Finally, his (?) face was covered on several tracks of sewing, not unlike the popular picture people had of the creature of Frankenstein. That was only for his (?) face, but Victor knew there were much more of them on the rest of his (?) body, and for good reasons since he was the one that made them.

REVOC could just lay on the floor that people wouldn't make the difference with a dead man.

But that detail didn't disturb Victor in the slightest.

"So," He started as he sat on a chair. REVOC didn't get up. "Give me your report about Beserker's Master's whereabouts."

REVOC stood silent a few seconds as if organazing his (?) thoughts before talking.

"Nothing much did change since my last report. She tries her best to live normally Berserker's presence as well as mine. She doesn't have much success thought, and she seems to stack a little stress."

"I see." Victor mused. "It would be bad if she were to commit suicide because of that. Mm, we should think of a way to avoid that."

"Why..." REVOC whispered something.

"What did you say?"

"Why do insist so much on controling her? Wouldn't it be better if she had more liberty?"

Those were sensible words. Yet, simply hearing these from his (?) mouth was enough to make the ruthless Victor Vasilia very angry.

The latter stood up, walked up to REVOC and angrily kicked his subordonate's head so that he(?) fell to the floor.

There was no cry of pain, no protestation; only Victor's rage.

"How dare you..."

He kicked him (?) again.

"How dare a pitiful life being like you-!"

And again...

"-who cannot even be called a human, give me his opinion!"

And again...

"You're even lower than that dog, yet you dare to open your mouth to say me that?! Now your place, you damn insect!"

Each sentence was followed by a kick in his (?) guts.

However, REVOC didn't look like he was suffering. He didn't look like he was feeling anything at all. He just looked bored as if he was used to that.

When Victor finally stopped hitting him (?), REVOC could stand up and look at his master, breathless and red of anger. He (?) waited for the next insult when suddenly the two of them heard a noise at the door. It wasn't someone knocking but rather a creaking.

"Who's there?!" Victor shouted, still under the effects of his anger.

"Daddy?"

However, upon hearing the small voice from the other side of the door, all anger seemed to disappear from Victor's face, replaced by worry. He hurried to the door and opened it to discover a height-year-old little girl with long wavy hair in nightdress.

Victor made sure to close th door behind him before squating in front of his daughter.

"What's wrong, Ladylee?" He asked her in a worried tone.

"I heard you screaming, so I came to see if daddy was in trouble." Ladylee answered innocently.

Victor sighed. He was worried that something might have happened but now he was relieved

"No, I'm not in trouble. See?" He pressed his hand against his chest. "I'm allright. Now, don't worry and go back to sleep."

"Young mistress!" Someone shouted in the halleyway.

It was a breathless and panicked Laurent who was running in their direction. When he joined up with them, he stopped a moment to catch his breath.

"Young mistress, don't sneak out of your room behind my back ever again!" The blue-haired servant said desesperately.

(Kh, this damn dog.) Victor was glaring daggers at Laurent, and the latter had noticed it as he lowered his gaze.

Victor was furious he let Ladylee go out of her room to come down here, although seeing his daughter messing around with that dog was quite pleasing.

He heard the door behind him opening and saw REVOC exit the laboratorie.

"If you would excuse me," The hermaphrodit spoke up. "I'll go back to my mission."

REVOC walked away and went out of the mansion. As he (?) was crossing the garden, he (?) heard hurried footsteps behind him and someone shouting:

"Wait!"

REVOC turned around and saw Laurent in the frame of the door. The teenager walked up to him (?) and gave him (?) a pained look.

"Are you allright?" Was his only question.

REVOC didn't answer and looked at him, surprised. Did he (?) have any bruise on his (?) face? Or did simply walking out of the laboratory worry him?

A faint smile appeared on REVOC's face. He (?) raised his (?) right hand and reached for the upper right part of Laurent's face. This part was completely hidden by blue bangs and, when REVOC touched it with his (?) bare hand, he (?) felt the coldness and hardness of steel.

Despite that, his (?) smile didn't fade and he (?) stroke the teenager's face gently.

"You don't have to worry for me little brother."

"I already told you to stop calling me that. At this rate, you will-!"

"I said you don't have to worry for me. Now go back to her side. She's more important to you than I am, right?"

"But that's..." Laurent desesperately tried to reply.

"Then, you should stay by her side." REVOC looked at the starry sky. "There's a piece of happiness for each of us in this world."

After saying that, the sacrificial sheep REVOC left the mansion for good.

* * *

The scene taking place in front of him seemed like it was from a different time.

He didn't reconize the place he was in either.

It was a big valley bordered by a forest of firs and crossed by a long river of which he couldn't see the end.

This place probably had a luxurious vegetation not long ago, but most of the trees had been chopped down and now there was a big contrast between the inside and the outside of the valley.

However, the most impressive was probably the number of people in it.

It was late in the night and thousands of stars shined in the sky, yet there were just as many people down there setting up their campground and litting up fires, so that the landscape was completely visible despite the black sky.

He wasn't in the valley with the thousands of warriors. Rather, he was on one of the cliffs delimiting its borders. On his left, a large waterfall allowed the river to enter the valley.

Despite the army celebrating and filling the space, he could truly call this scenery beautiful.

But even so, it wasn't what caught his attention: right next to him, between him and the waterfall, Saber of Black was sitting quietly, holding a bowl filled with alcohol. Visibly, she was celebrating too as a satisfied grin decorated her face.

But he wouldn't have reconized her if it wasn't for the deep mental connexion between them.

The person sitting leg crossed next to him was a tall and muscular Asian woman with long teal hair and deep green eyes. All she was wearing was some kind of brown baggy pants and bandages wrapped around her chest as a bra, but it didn't make her look any weaker.

In fact, the best word to describe her as she was in front of him was "powerful". She didn't give off the feeling of a king as imagined in tales, but rather the aura of an undefeatable warrior who had been through many battles and emerged victorious.

She was simply sitting there, but he could tell how powerful she was. And she could too. In her heart, he could find the pleasure of victory, the incredible state where one was higher than the rest of the world just because of their strength.

It was refreshing...

Yes, she had made a long way since the little girl who cursed herself for her weakness.

As she was now, she could look at the eighty-one clans that composed her army with a motherly feeling, a feeling that every artist had when they contemplated their work of art.

She was one of the oldest Heroic Spirit, one of the first figures that could fit the position of hero. Yes, although her legend was that of a greedy and cruel tyrant, for the thousands of warriors she led to battle, she was a true hero.

He understood all too well the strength of that person who went from a harmless victim to a warlord so feared she was deified as a god of war.

...

He didn't know what disturbed him the most: this woman so strong it felt like he was dragging her down by being her Master?

Or was it seeing her without the effects of **Innocent Monster**?

He carved in a corner of his memorie this Saber with only two eyes and two arms, and without horns. In a way, the Saber he knew felt like she was only a shadow of herself.

As he was having those thoughts, Saber drank her cup of alcohol in one go and stood up.

"Listen to me!" Her strong voice echoed through the valley and, all of sudden, all the warriors stopped making noise to listen to their leader. "Tonight, we are victorious! We trampled the Yan Emperor's army and this coward fled to the Yellow Emperor's court! The latter will probably come after us. But we'll reserve him the same fate!"

At this moment, it sounded like a storm raged through the valley as the warriors acclaimed their leader.

* * *

Lancer of Black looked right and left. She didn't reconize this place.

She was in front of a small farm made of wood. It was situated into what looked like a dry plain with a few tree. Strangely, it was all she could say about the surroundings, as the landscape beyond a radius of a hundred metres was blurred, if not completely unexistant. Even when she looked back at the farm, it felt like some parts were missing, like a structure where there was only a vacant lot.

It was like an unfinished paint, like if the artist had forgotten what he wanted to paint midway.

"Forgotten..." She whispered.

Her Master did say he had forgotten his name and his emotions. But she didn't knew if she could trust what he said. She still didn't trust him.

Truth be told, she wasn't really that angry after him, despite how much she shouted. She just wanted to see what kind of person her Master was. That and she was in a bad mood.

But in the end, she'd rather she didn't. Saying Ewald had lacked any reaction would be wrong: although he didn't move an inch or say anything, he had the eyes of a child listening to what the adults were saying without understanding the words they were using.

That single fact pretty much confirmed what he told her, but Lancer kept on refusing that fact.

Not because that scared her. But because she evied him.

It was like a disabled person jealousing someone with a healthy body.

It was childish. People might have thought Ewald was the misfortunate one. But not Lancer. Not Brynhildr.

Each legend had a moral, a theme. Phaeton's and Icarus' were about hubris. Achilles' and Hera's were about vengeful wrath.

Brynhildr's was about a girl whose feelings are toyed around, even unconsciously, and who, in the end, let them take control of her actions.

Most of people would think she was a _yandere_ , as they said nowadays. But the truth was that she was desesperate. She really did love the man known as Sigurd or Sigfried, but she killed him more because there was nothing else she could do at this point than out of love for him. Because while she loved and cheriched him, she deeply loathed and hated him.

That was where her main Noble Phantasm, **Brynhildr Romantia: The Spear of Love and Hate** , came from. To give her a spear more effective against the one she loved, it seemed even the Grail wanted to mock her feelings, though that wasn't worse than one of her other two Noble Phantasms.

Reading her story, one might think she was a strong woman. That's the impression she tried to give off to her Master. But if she was to be honest, she was just a girl tired of having her feelings ignored and trampled. Tired to the point she wanted the Grail to erase those feelings.

But she couldn't accept that her Master was someone who couldn't have feelings and wanted to undo that. It sounded like a bad joke.

At any rate, him and Lancer-

"Daddy!"

Lancer's train of thoughts was interupted by someone shouting. It was strange, however, as it sounded like she had heard the voice through a listening device and that there were parasitic noises.

The voice belonged to a young boy running in direction of a shack. Same as for the surrounding, Lancer couldn't see him properly at moments. However, she was able to guess it was a young Ewald Wachhund a long time ago.

When he reached the shack and entered inside, Lancer followed him. Before she did, however, she noticed the landsape was fading all around her, as if the memorie was being swalowed by darkness. She entered the shack in turn, and saw the young Ewald standing next to a man sitting on the floor.

His image was confused as well, but Lancer could see his smile. Ewald squatted and asked his father a question.

"What _ doing?"

"Hnng!"

As soon as she heard the words, Lancer had a violent headache. This time, the parasitic noises had prevented her of hearing some words. But even so the discussion went on.

"_ broken _. What'_ wrong?" Visibly, the father answered his son.

" Nothing. But _?" Young Ewald pointed at something a couple of metres away.

There, on the floor, there was a half erased symbol, probably once a magic circle.

"Ah, that'_ your _ left that _."

"_ does it _?"

"_ don't _."

Each sentence was painful to Lancer, but she kept listening although she couldn't understand what they were saying.

Suddenly, she heard the noise of something cracking coming from above. When she looked up, she saw the roof had disappeared just like the landscape did not long ago. The darkness was slowly eating away the walls of the shalk, but neither Ewald nor his father seemed to notice. In fact, Lancer felt like she could barely hear their voices now.

(What's going on...?) Lancer wondered that.

Yet, as she looked at the scenery fading away, she started to understand.

"Forgotten... so that's it. You've not simply forgotten your name or how to feel, you forgot a whole part of your life." She realized.

Oh, how much had she already suffered because of someone's memory loss. She looked at the young Ewald, listened to his voice which seemed so far away.

Indeed, this 'Ewald' and the one who have summoned her were different. This one was able to smile, use different tone of voice.

"You've forgotten the time when you had feelings. But why?"

Her question stayed in the air, never answered. Now, almost everything had turned to black except Ewald and his father, whose head and shoulders had already been erased.

This memorie was fading away because Ewald didn't remember it. Lancer was able to see it only because it was still somewhere in his head.

But why couldn't he remember it? What prevented him from doing so?

"_, take this with you."

"!"

All of sudden, the father's voice had become crystal clear. He raised his right arm -which was the only left part of his body- and opened his hand. Inside it, there was an old rusted pocket watch.

"Ah? What is it?" The young Ewald asked, filled with curiosity.

"It's a device to know what time it is. Ah, it doesn't work anymore though."

"Why are you giving it to me then?"

"Because it's something very important to me, even if it doesn't work. That's why I want you to take care of it."

The young Ewald nodded vigorously, took the pocket watch in his hand and opened it.

At the same moment, everything fadded to black.

* * *

Lancer groaned.

Her eyes were still closed but the stinging pain in her head and the feeling of softness from her back confirmed her she was awake.

Slowly, she sat up and opened her eyes. She was still sleepy and didn't immediatly reconize the place she was in.

"Ah. You're awake." An emotionless voice stated.

Hearing this voice definitely woke up Lancer. All the memories of the situation came back at once.

Right now, she was in the individual room lend by New Edge to Ewald. It was pretty large for a bedroom, but incredibly empty too. Lancer was sitting on the only bed of the room.

She turned her head in direction of the voice and saw Ewald sitting at a desk, doing the maintenance of his handgun.

"... I don't remember sleeping on the bed." Lancer muttured.

"You were sleeping on the ground when I found you. I heard sleeping on the ground is bad for your health so I carried you to the bed."

"You didn't need to."

"Why? Are you a masochist?"

"I'm not! Ugh, I can perfectly sleep on the floor without a problem. Plus it's the only bed in this room."

"I can order another one you know?"

"It's not necessary."

"Really? Very well then, I'll sleep on the floor."

"Huh? Why would you?!"

"Well, there is only one bed."

"No, why would you be the one sleeping on the floor?!"

"Why?" Ewald scratched his head. "Well, it's not like I could have any preference at all so I can sleep pretty much anywhere. Besides, I'm quite used to it."

"But I'm the Servant here!"

"Oh? Then, shall we remove the bed?"

"What for?!"

"Well, if you insist on sleeping on the floor, we don't need any bed, right?"

(Why do you want to sleep on the floor so bad to start with?!)

Lancer wanted to put her head in her hand. Apparently, she had discovered another side of her Master's personality.

"Fine then, I'll sleep on the bed." She finally resigned herself.

Lancer laid back on the bed with a sigh as Ewald went back to his handgun's maintenance.

This unlikely argument had almost made her forgot about the dream she just had. She looked the Ewald who had summoned her, and remembered the 'Ewald' in her dream. Yes, she could definitely tell the two apart. But why had he changed?

"Hey, Master..."

"What is it?"

"... Do you have a pocket watch?"

"I do. Ah, it doesn't work though."

* * *

It was a sunny day. The sky was completely blue without a cloud.

Walking on a single road in the middle bordered by vines, Berserker of Red was walking happily while humming.

Though, calling him Berserker now wouldn't be accurate.

He was much more younger than the one Leanne had summoned, and he didn't have the same expression of rage.

He was wearing a fine tunic and so did the man and the woman following him. Those were old enough to be his parents and had a kind face, visibly happy to see their son in a good mood.

But as they had walked a few hundreds of metres, they heard a buzzing noise not far in front of them.

"What can be doing this noise?" The father wondered.

Suddenly, Berserker's face turned from curious to worried. He wasn't worried of what could be producing this noise. He was worried that his parents would go check what it was.

He had reconized the place. He knew what should be laying around somewhere into the vines. If his parents were to find it, they would find out his secret too!

"I'll go and see what is making this annoying noise." He told his parents. "You two should stay here in case it is something dangerous."

And without waiting for their agreement, he entered the field of vines. It didn't take long before he found what he was looking for: there, hidden amidst the vegetation, was the corpse of a lion which had attacked him a few days ago. When he had seen the ferocious beast leaping on his, Berserker had simply grabbed him with both hand and ripped him in half just like someone would rip bread.

The easiness with which he had killed this lion barehanded had deeply shocked him, and he had decided to keep this formidable strength from his parents. And now, he was looking at the two part of the animal's body. Surprised, he found the origin of the buzzing noise he and his parents had heard.

The dead body had been nested by bees. The later had already produced honey, which Berserker tasted.

He took a handful and swallowed it. It was delicious!

"Thus, out of the strong, the sweet was made." He mused, visibly amused by his found.

The scene changed. Berserker was still there. His age was the same. But nothing was left of the happiness and the amusement his face once showed.

This Beserker was closer to the one Leanne had summoned. His face was twisted by wrath, his teeth were bared like wolf's fangs, his fists were clenched so hard they could bend metal and his arms covered in blood.

It wasn't his blood however.

The place he was standing in was a city in ruin and in flame. Dozens of corpses were lying on the ground, some with their neck snapped, other with their body crushed or ripped off. At least half of them were wearing Philistine armors. Those were the soldiers who had tried in vain to stop him from slaughtering the inhabitants of the city.

Berserker beholded the destruction he had caused with eyes blinded by rage and, with a hoarse voice, he muttured only one sentence:

"I have done to them what they did to me."

* * *

Leanne's eye opened all of sudden.

She didn't knew what had woken her up since it was still the middle of the night. When she finally had all her mind, she realized she had fallen asleep on the floor!

"Oh..." She let out a groan as she got up. As a result of sleeping on a hard surface, her back hurt. "What's happening to me? Sleeping on the floor..."

Yes. What was happening to her?

It wasn't just about her sleeping habits. What had happened since all this crazy stuff about magi and Servants had started? From one day to the next, she had summoned what was should be a historical hero and she was being monitored by some kind of crazy magical organization. It felt like a nightmare.

"Grrrraaah..."

Leanne heard a growl and felt the presence of Berserker not far from her, who had just woken up. As soon as she did, the atmosphere in the room changed from that of a calm winter night to a palpable rage.

Leanne, it was because of him that she had fallen asleep on the ground. Since this giant had become her Servant, She felt constantly tired and anxious. It was like he was draining her strength.

"Sigh. I almost want to cry." Leanne muttured and curled up on her bed.

She wasn't overacting. She really wanted to cry. Her life had been thrown upside down even before this 'Holy Grail War' or whatever had started. She raised her head a little to look at the picture on her night table. When she did, her urge to cry became stronger. Yet she did her best to hold her tears back.

"Hey, Berserker." She called out to the madman. "Did you have a wife when you were alive?"

Her question was only met by a growl.

"Did you have children?"

A growl.

"Have you ever felt like life was against you?"

A growl.

"..."

This time, Leanne definitely cried.

Alone.

She felt horribly alone.

That man on the picture would never come back.

It was unlikely the little boy would.

Berserker was nothing but a concentration of anger unable to talk.

And now she was crying on her bed. Alone.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Leanne wiped her tears and stood up to go open the door. When she arrived in front of the door and was about to turn the doorknob, she felt taken aback. Who was behind that door? As she was now, she couldn't accept any friends nor relatives, they would feel something is off. And she didn't want to face one of these crazy magi.

The doorbell rang again.

"Who's there?" Leanne asked in a weak voice.

She thought maybe she didn't say it loud enough for her visitor to hear her, but then...

"It's me. I saw the lights were on so I rang." A lifeless voice answered her.

Leanne let out a sigh of relief and relaxed a little after she reconized his (?) voice.

"Sorry to make you wait." She opened the door. "I'll prepare some tea."

* * *

 _Hi, everyone! It's been a month but I'm back and kicking!_

 _This break was very useful to me to organize my thoughts for the serie, and i'm happy to be able to write again._

 _Fate/Rongodamiant has a lot of characters, that is for sure, and i'm probably not skilled enough to develop them enough with just one serie. That's why I thought that the only way to do so would have been to have at least three different routes each focusing on different characters. But, because I'm too lazy to and busy to write three whole routes, this serie will be a mix between the three routes I have imagined. I think I'll also write bonus chapters showing scenes from different routes._

 _That aside, let's talk about this chapter in particular. You may have noticed the '1' next to the chapter's name. That's because the chapters named 'At the End of the Day, a Dream' will be particuliar chapters centered around the dreams of the Servants' or the Masters' past. Of course there will be dreams in normal chapters, but the AEDDs will, aside from this first one, cover dreams from the characters that doesn't get much attention._

 _That way it's easier for me to develop those character and I have a lot of fun writing these dreams._

 _Thank you for reading this chapter. As usual, comment and review!_

 _~Legends Storyteller._


	6. Chapter V: Murder Speculation

**Chapter V: Murder Speculation**

* * *

 **Tokyo, Japan**

In the entertainement district that Ikebukuro was, the main streets are always lit on both day and night and are constantly full of people. In comparison, the back alleys were really dark and empty.

And dangerous.

Ayako Kushieda had realized it when she had started to run as fast as she could to get away from her aggressors.

They were five or six, all boys. There motives were obvious enough that she didn't wait for them to talk before fleeing. She had tried to get back into the wide, lit streets but they were blocking her way.

Whenever she thought she had lost them, they reappeared left and right as if they knew where she was exactly. And when she had turned left and found a dead end, she confirmed her thought:they knew this place very well.

They had immobilized and gagged her so that she doesn't scream while they transported her to an empty warehouse.

"Seriously, boss. Was it really worth it to move her all the way 'till here." One of the thugs complained as he closed the door of the warehouse.

"Of course it is, you moron." The leader of the group replied. "Nobody will come to disturb us in our base, so we have all the time we want."

"If you say so..."

The thug didn't argue and returned his attention on Ayako who was lying on the floor. Her aggressors were all smirking while they approached her. All the poor girl could do was shut her eyes as hard as she could and pray for a miracle to occur.

And for a minute, she thought her prayers had been heard.

"Who's there!" The leader shouted after hearing the sound of the warehouse's large door opening.

Still closing her eyes, Ayako heard footsteps resounding in the shed before stopping, and an adult male voice rose.

" _Guten Abend!_ Whoa, there's a lot of people in there."

"Hey, I asked you who you were, you fucker."

"Me? My friends call me Peter, but for you it'll be Assassin."

Ayako finally decided to open her eyes and, surrounded by the group of thugs, stood the strangest man she had ever seen. The man looked in his thirties, fairly tall with slightly spiky cherry pink hair. He was wearing a large coat as well as sunglassses despite the late hour. To Ayako, he looked like the villain of a detective movie. The strangest in his getup was the silver belt glittering at the moonlight entering the warehouse through a large window.

"Tsk! I don't give a fuck about your name, gramps! You have no business here so get the fuck outta here!"

"Pim Point? Why are they angry? I told them what they wanted, didn't I?" The man calling himself Assassin turned his head to look at a pill of trash laying around... no actually, he was talking to the monkey who had gotten here without anyone noticing!

"That's because you're disturbing them. See?" It pointed its finger at Ayako. "They were about to have a good time with the little girl here."

Everyone -Ayako included- had thought the man was crazy when he addressed to the chimpanzee, but the latter actually answered his question.

"Wha-!"

"Did the monkey just talk?!"

"Kh- monkeys don't talk, you morons. He's probably just ventriloquist!"

"B-But it moved its lips. You mean it's trained?"

"Who cares?" The leader muttered angrily. "Hey, you clown! I don't care what you have to do here but you better go away quickly and tell nobody about what you saw here."

Assassin, rather than listening to the leader of the thugs, was still talking to the monkey called Pim Point.

"I see, so they don't want me to stay. But that would be a problem. I didn't follow them here to let mincemeat go."

His comment was heard by everyone. It angered the thugs; it sent a chill down Ayako's spine. She wasn't afraid for the man to be hurt in a battle where he was clearely disadvantaged. Since she had saw him, she had felt an ominous feeling coming from Assassin.

"Oi, Boss! We can't let him go now! If he talks, we are deep shit!" One of the thugs let out ragefully and punced on Assassin to punch him in the face.

But instead of tring to avoid the punch or at least counter it, Assassin looked like he didn't considered the thug to be a threat and merely pushed him away, with so much strength the thug was sent against the wall of the warehouse. The rest of the thugs shouted in surprise, expecting the mysterious Assassin to be no big deal.

"Huh? What was that?!"

"Just how much strength does he have?!"

"Tsk." The leader clicked his tongue and took out a knife out of his pocket and approached the man while pointing it at him. He probably expected Assassin to be afraid by the weapon, but it was quite the opposit.

"Hey, that's a nice knife you have there! Can I have it?"

"What the fuck are you saying, gramps?"

"Just take it on his dead body, you idiot." Pim Point advised Assassin.

"You're right! I didn't think about that."

"Just who the hell do you think you are, gramps?!"

The leader ran to assassin and to slice his throat with his knife, but he didn't fare better than the previous attacker. Assassin avoided the knife and kicked the leader's leg so hard it broke with an ominous noise. The thug screamed and fell on the ground but Assassin swiftly grabbed him by his neck and snapped it.

When their leader's corpse fell on the ground, the rest of the group panicked and some of them tried to run away. But Assassin caught up with them at a superhuman speed and sent them flying back with those to afraid to move.

As for Ayako, she was trembling with fear on the ground, repeating in her head that this was nothing but a nightmare as the man was counting them.

"One, two, three, four, five, six aaannd seven." Assassin took off his sunglasses and Ayako was even more afraid when she saw his eyes. Those were the eyes of a hungry wild beast. " _Gutten Appetit!_ "

* * *

 **St. Marie Island, Madagascar**

The sun was rising, slowly setting the horizon on fire as the darkness were fleeing to the West, following the moon.

Linandir was on the chore of St. Marie Island. All the other Masters were probably still sleeping but he had woken up so early it was still night, and took the opportunity to take a walk on the island.

And now he was sitting on a rock near the waves, watching the sunrise with a nostalgic smile.

How long had it been since he had seen this daily sight for the last time? He hadn't bothered to, thinking it would be too much for his heart to bear.

«But now, it doesn't hurt anymore. Quite the contrary, this sight strengthen my will.» Linandir thought aloud.

«Huh? What did you just say, servant?» An unpleasing voice broke his serenity.

It was Rider of Black, who Linandir had forced to tag along. He had prefered keep him in sight since the moment he had suggested to go and make a feast in his honor at the nearest village. He was just standing a few metres behind him. Next to him was his horse, Incitatus, which he apparently brought everywhere with him.

«What do you want, Rider?» Linandir asked, annoyed.

«You just said something, didn't you? Keeping it a secret from me equals to betrayal!»

«Quiet down! It's just that this scenery reminded me of the reason why I joined New Edge.»

«Is that so?» Rider replied in an uninterested tone.

«Are you curious about it?»

This question was rethorical. Of course Linandir didn't expect Rider to care about motivations other than his own. It was the kind of selfcentered bastard he had been in life, and kept being after his death.

«Ha! As if an emperor -no, a god!- such as me would be interested in the motivation of a lowly being such as yourself. I already told you, didn't I? You're only alive thanks to my mercy which you are unworthy of. Your only role in this war is to furnish me in prana, so just be o-» Rider's sentence was interrupted by the sudden neighing of his horse. «However, it seems like Incitatus wants to know. Then, servant, I order you to talk!»

'Order', huh?

Linandir definitely hated Rider. The later, mainly because of **Mental Pollution** , didn't listen to anyone, not even his Master. The only 'person' he considered worthy of being heard out is his 'consul', Incitatus. Linandir was truly grateful to the intelligent horse, as it was him who had saved him by convincing Rider not to 'torture him without killing him'.

He had already understood Incitatus was his only hope to control Rider.

«Fine then. To put it simply, you could say I'm fighting in the name love.»

«…...»

Rider didn't react to his declaration, looking just as uninterested as before. Only because of another neighing of his horse, he gave Linandir a look meaning 'Elaborate, or else…'. He sighed

«I guess you two don't know how the Mage's Association works.» Not that it would interest Rider. «Love match are as rare as platinum. In fact, I don't remember any marriage that wasn't arranged.» Linandir stood up on his rock and faced the horizon. «New Edge wants to change the Mage's Association, but what I wish for is to change that tyrannical truth.»

Yes.

It wasn't on a beach and the situation was different from this day, but he knew he would never forget the sunrise he had watched long ago nor the person with who he watched it.

His goal was to make sure other magi would not suffer like he did and have a proper marriage. It may sound ridiculous but he wasn't ashamed of it.

Yet, his speech was only applauded by Rider's snickering.

«A wish befitting of a lowly being like you! What idiot would wish for something as intangible as love? Preposterous!»

The mad emperor cruelly trampled his feelings.

It wasn't the first time he was being mocked at. Fighting for love was an uncongruous idea for magus, and he was used to it.

But...

«As if you could understand anything to it, you depraved monster!» Linandir let out in a burst of anger.

Not Rider.

He didn't want to hear those words from the mouth of this man whose life was the best exemple of immorality. This man, who never felt anything close to love, didn't have the right to judge his wish!

Yes. This man couldn't possibly understand how Linandir felt.

«…What did you say…?!»

However, it wasn't a good choice to let it slip from his mouth. As soon as he did, he felt an intense aura of anger and danger emanating from Rider, who was grimacing.

«You dare criticize your god?! Don't push your luck, you worm!»

(Khu. So that's the wrath of an emperor, huh?)

It was impressive indeed. Linandir could feel his body shrank while Rider's was growing. He had used a Command Spell to forbid Rider to kill him, but he felt he could die just by this menacing wave.

But he was saved by a miraculous third neighing. Incitatus said something to Rider, who clicked his tongue and calmed down. He then turned to Linandir and talked to him with a voice blending hatred and superiority.

«Incitatus has a question for you, so open your ears wide for I shall repeat it.» Rider cleared his throat. «'Are you doing that out of generosity or because of your own experience?'»

«…...»

Linandir didn't answer immediatly.

He knew the anwer, but it was the first time someone asked him this question.

Of course, he was doing it for others, or else his wish wouldn't make sens. But…

«… No. You could say it's a little of both.»

The sun will rise everyday, even after he'll be gone and his body'll return to the earth. But the smile of the person sat next to him that day will neve appear in front of him ever again. That hurt the most.

Had he not felt this pain, the magus Linandir would probably have never believe in a concept like 'people should marry the person they love'.

«When I think about it, it's-»

BILILILILIP!

Linandir wanted to say one more thing but he was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He usually didn't use one but it was given to him by New Edge and they were his only contact. As such, this call could only be from them.

He picked up.

«Yes?»

«Mr. Eïchtobell?» It was the voice of Loïa Beddway, Alexander's secretary. «Where are you right now?»

«I'm outside the base. I'm on the beach.»

«I'll ask you to come back within the next twenty minutes. There will be a meeting in the conference room.»

«This early in the morning?»

«Yes. You'll receive your mission and go immediatly after. Is there any problem?»

«None. I'll be there.»

Loïa hung up.

«…...»

Linandir thought for a few seconds before heading back to the forest.

«Let's go, Rider. The Holy Grail War is finally starting.»

* * *

He felt like he was sinking.

It wasn't like sinking in the sea but much more like honey.

He was surrounded by warm and let his body sink.

There wasn't anyone but him and the silence.

(?)

Or was there? He could swear he could hear a noise in the distance, like an irregular heartbeat.

But he could barely hear them as the honey was drowning down the noise.

It was annoying though. He wished these heartbeats would just stop as he couldn't rest properly.

(...Rest? I am resting?)

As soon as he thought that, the heartbeats became louder and he realized those weren't heartbeats. It was more like something hitting wood.

(Ugh. Annoying...)

Little by little, he discerned something like a voice shouting.

"-rgas! Leonidas Argas!"

"Wha!"

Leo jumped in surprise and fell off his bed, definitely waking up in the process.

"What the-!"

It took Leo a few seconds to understand where he was and what was going on. He was of course on the floor of his bedroom, inside his apartment. By looking through the window, he could tell it was day, but the sunlight was to weak to be late in th morning. In fact, it was dark enough that th streetlights were still on.

Bam! Bam!

And for some reason, someone was knocking loudly at his door at this time where everyone should be sleeping.

Leo got up and walked slowly to the door of his apartment, still sleepy despite the rough morning call. He sincerely hoped it was just an extreme newspaper solicitor and not someone from the Mage's Association, though he was still too sleepy to remember why he feared the later.

And his hopes were betrayed the moment he opened the door.

On the other side of the door frame, a middle-aged man with half of his face pockmarked and wearing a long blue coat was standing, visibly angry. As soon as he saw Leo, he started talking with a voice befitting his face.

"About time! It has been three minutes since I started calling you!"

"Erm... Sorry, I just woke up but... who are you?"

Leo just wanted to get this over with and go back to sleep as quickly as possible.

"I am Abraham Viniloa, first class instructor at the Clock Tower. I came here to tell you to prepare yourself."

"Hum, prepare for what?" Leo asked carefully. Abraham was angry enough as he already was and something in the first class magus' eyes was telling he should know the answer to his question better than him.

"Can't you tell?" Abraham asked, annoyed. "I'm talking about the Holy Grail War!" Hearing those three words felt like a cold shower to Leo. His memories about all this crazy stuff came back all at once. "In a few hour, you as well as your partner and me will be taking a boat to the Azores archipelago."

"Ha?! Why am I told that now?!"

"Don't ask me. Anyway, here" Abraham gave a piece of paper to Leo. "is the location of the boat. you'll receive the detail of the mission once on board."

With that, Abraham was about to leave but Leo grabbed his sleeve.

"Wait, don't leave me like that! You didn't even tell me who my partner was."

"You'll be going with Lancer's Master. Now if you would let me go and prepare yourself for fighting." Abraham freed himself from Leo's hand and left for good.

All Leo could do as the door of his apartment slamed was standing there dumbfounded while staring blankly at the door.

He still had a lot of question but apparently they will be left unanswered for a while.

"Oh, well." He looked at the piece of paper in his hand. "I better prepare myself as he told me to. After all, he said that I'd get the detail once on board."

He walked away from the door and thought about his bed.

Clearly, he wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon.

* * *

 **Tokyo, Japan**

A police car stopped in front of the warehouse. Foor people got out of it. Three were dressed like policemen, while the last one was a man in his thirties wearing a suit. He was, most likely, a detective.

"Is this the place?" The detective asked one of the policeman.

"Yes. We received a call of someone saying they saw a group of deliquent kidnapping a young girl and bringing her here."

The detective listened carefully. There was no sound inside. Did they run away when they heard the car?

"It doesn't seem locked." One of the policemen had walked to the door and slowly pulled it with a creaking sound.

The detective nodded to him, and the policeman frantically opened the large door with a slam.

Still no sound.

"I don't see any movement. It's pretty dark inside."

"Then the best way to know is to enter."

In turns, the three policemen and the detective entered inside. It was pretty dark indeed, but they had brought torchlight of course.

Though, they may have prefered they hadn't.

What they saw when the light from the torchlights illuminated the warehouse was...

"Tch. Not Again." Daisuke Akimi muttured to himself. "It's the second time in two days already."

What they saw when the light from the torchlights illuminated the the warehouse were the victimes of Asassin of White, or rather the remainings.

As it was, it was impossible to tell how many people were killed there. The ground was covered on blood, flesh, bones, guts and fat. Various body parts could be reconized, and some of the body were more complete than the rest.

One of the policemen behind Daisuke threw up.

The detective slowly walked to the hellish scene to take an even closer look to the piles of flesh. Many years ago, he had worked on the case of an unknown serial killer. The state of the bodies when they found them was never pretty. They never found who the culprit was in the end.

But he had never seen something so gruesome. It looked like some wild beast with very sharp fangs had brutaly eaten them. Walking in the middle of the carnage, Daisuke food an undamaged head -separated from the rest of the body, however-. The boy had an expression of pain and of extreme fear.

Had he been eaten alive?

(Ugh. I musn't think about that. Now, there must be clues somewhere. One cannot make such a slaughter and leave no hint.)

But looking everywhere, all there was were blood, flesh, bones, guts and fats. Even if there was a clue amidst that cruel show, it was probably hidden or unreconizable to human eyes.

The idea of a wild beast wandering in Tokyo was absurd. I would be spotted quickly, and there would be more scratch on the floor.

(If only there was a survivor... but there isn't any, right?)

Just as Daisuke thought that, as if by irony, he heard a faint smile like a groan only a meter away from his feet. Looking in the direction of the noise, he saw a young girl, probably the one reported in the call. Because she was covered in blood as well, Daisuke didn't notice her body was whole.

"Hey, guys! i think I've found a survivor!"

He crouched next to the girl and checked her body. There were only a few wounds, but those weren't grave. On the other hand, the girl had visibly been abused and, when Daisuke looked at her face, he saw she was fully awake.

No, most likely she hadn't been asleep but was to shocked to talk.

"Kh- Dammit. Help me carry her!"

With the help of his colleagues, Daisuke carried Ayako to the police car and headed to their headquarters.

* * *

Quietly humming, Assassin of White was simply walking in the street. He was humming a happy litle song, ignoring the disgusted and afraid look of the passer-bys. Each time he was walking close of someone, they would back away or just change of sidewalk. He could hear their comments on him even from afar.

"Wha, this guy is a weirdo."

"Is that blood on his coat? And this smell... eww it makes me wanna puke!"

"Ugh, this creepy monkey just stared at me."

Of course, Assassin didn't like that people speak evil of him. And as stated before, he could very well hear everything.

The reason he wasn't reacting wasn't that he was ignoring them. If that was that, his ears wouldn't be twitching t each sentence.

The answer was that he was simply too happy. His face showed a huge crooked smile and his hummings didn't stop.

"You seem really happy." Pim Point the chimpanzee pointed out.

"Well, I was thinking it felt good to be alive again and to eat as much as I want a well."

"You say that, but you didn't eat that girl."

"I wasn't hungry anymore after eating the boys. Six people's a lot you know."

"What will you do if she talks to the police? She's seen your Noble Phantasm you know."

"Ah, crap. I didn't think about that!"

"You really are an idiot, huh? You don't need to worry though. If she was to talk, people would just think she's crazy."

"Oh, I see. That's good." Assassin dig his hand into his pocket and took out a knife. "It really is a nice knife though." He mused while playing with his loot.

"Hey."

"What?"

"You still have a bit of blood in the corner of your mouth."

"Ah, thank you."

"Well, that aside, I'm hungry too. Let stop by a family restaurant or something."

"Ah, yes. But we don't have any money."

"I thought about that you know. That's why I took these thugs' wallet while we were a it." Pim point said while swinging around a blood red object in his hand.

* * *

Despite the rough morning call and his chat with Abraham, Leo couldn't help but feel sleepy, which was completely understandable.

He had woken in the middle of the night because of his dream about Saber's past, and it took him at least an hour to go back to sleep. He didn't check what time it was back then, but Leo could tell he hadn't been asleep for long when Abraham knocked to his door.

Because of that, he now had to focuse all his thought on his preparation or else he would fall asleep on the floor. However, he had the feeling he was forgeting something important.

After Abraham had left, Leo went back to his room to put on his clothes and then headed to another room of his apartment. This room os what he'd call his workshop, except that he used it as little often as possible.

Of course, there was the fact that he didn't like anything related to the world of magi, but there was another reason. Simply put, he didn't like the room itself. From what Leo knew, the precedent inhabitant of this apartment was a magus as well, and it was the room he used as his workshop. This magus was found dead in his workshop a few weeks before Leo came here. Soon enough, rumors of him trying to summon a demon who refused to obey him and killed started to circulate, and one of them said the demon was still there.

Of course, Leo didn't believe these rumors and attributed his death to an experiment gone wrong.

However, this room still gave him the creeps, and any place where someone died was a no for him. Maybe for this reason, that was where he stored anything magecraft-related.

The room was rectangular with a couple of bookshelves and a desktop. On the floor, a magic circle was drawn in red. It was already here when Leo installed in the apartment and he didn't bother checking if it was blood. It seemed the magus didn't have any relatives or maybe nobody wanted to take them, but because of that all the book and materials had stayed here and Leo had inherited them. He had read through ome of them but doing that only persuaded him further that he didn't want to know how the magus was dead.

Anyway, the most important was the chest. Next to one of the bookshelves there was a chest looking like a pirate's treasure chest and was surely big enough to hold an actual treasure. Inside were store Leo's stuff.

He opened it and looked at his equipment.

"I never thought I would have the occasion to use that. At least not in this kind of situation."

The content of the chest was extremely varied for a magus', especially considering what was inside. Leo could find throwing knifes, some bottles filled with a clear liquid inside and a warning sign on the stickers, some water ballons filled with a liquid that certainely wasn't water, and...

"Ah, there it is."

Leo withdrew his hand from the chest. The object he was now holding was a large metal gloves that looked more like a claw and had some strange symbols carved in it. It was the Mystic Code of the Argas family and the only thing Leo ever accepted from his father, Inheim.

It had a name like 'Phantasm Glove', but Leo prefered to call it 'The Jokes and Hoaxes Glove'. It was quite an important item as Leo needed it to cast the spells that were his family's speciality. One of the two reasons Leo didn't regret being born in the Argas family was, of course, his uncle as well as his cousin. The other one was his family's magecraft.

"And next is..."

Leo took the glove as well as several other items from the chest and went back to his room. There, he opened one of the compartment of his night table and took out yet another magecraft tool. This one wasn't stored in the workshop because it held a greater emotional value to Leo.

It was five rings of metal, each linked to another by a small silver chain. On each ring, there was a jewel filled with prana. The rings were quite large so that anyone could use them, and because of the size of the jewels, it actually looked like a beautiful brass knuckle.

Those rings were very important to Leo. They were offered to him by his cousin Maria nine years ago. Since then, he had filled them with prana everyday as a backup.

"..."

Leo let out a sigh.

Simply seeing these rings made his moral drop. He let himself fall backward onto his bed, and stare at the ceiling.

"Nine years... and yet, now that she's been kidnapped I cannot even move a finger to help her."

It wasn't an understatement to say Maria was like a sister to Leo. When he arrived at his uncle's house ten years ago, she and Michael had been an important moral support to him. They had been more of a family than his actual father.

And here he was, powerless as his sister had been taken away. Maria had nothing to do with the war, yet, just because Leo and Michael were Masters, she was now a victim.

Leo let out another sigh.

Minutes flew by. He didn't move an inch and kept starring silently into nothingness.

That was when...

"Master."

"Dha!"

...Leo almost had a heart attack upon hearing Saber's voice next to him, anf fell off his bed for the second time in the morning.

"What the- S-Saber! Since when are you here?!"

"Pardon me. I didn't mean to scare you. To answer your question, I've been next to you since you woke up."

"Since I woke up? But then how comes that I didn't-"

Leo was about to ask a stupid question. He had seen himself his uncle's Servant, Rider of Red, a ppear out of nowhere and disappear in the same way.

"Ah, I see. Spiritual form."

"Yes. I thought you were aware of it. Sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry. I knew about it but... I'm still not used to it yet."

Saber tilted his head.

"If you order me so, I can keep a physical shape, though it will cost more energy."

"I already told you, I'm not comfortable with you obeying every order from me. I mean, I'm not a king or anything. It's not llike you needed my permission to do anything."

"..." Saber didn't answer immediatly. He seemed to be thinking for a few seconds. "Then, I'd rather keep a material body, if it doesn't bother you."

"Of course it doesn't bother me. You're having a new life after all this time, so I won't stop you from enjoying it."

"..."

Once again, Saber didn't answer, but Leo thought for a second he saw him smiling a little. He didn't have time to wonder about it though, as Saber suddenly looked like he remembered something.

"Ah, Master. What I wanted to tell you..."

"What is it?"

"You seemed to be in a bad mood. Is that because of what Michael said yersteday?"

"Yersteday? Ah, yes. My cousin, Oncle Michael's daughter, was supposed to come here to be in safety but her boat was attacked, and the few survivors witnessed her kidnapping."

Leo didn't realize it, but he had a sour tone.

Saber, on the other hand, clenched his fist forward and had a determinated expression.

"Don't worry about it, Master. I swear I'll do my best to help you rescue her."

"I know. As a knight, it's your duty to-"

"No, Master."

Saber interrupted Leo.

"Even if I wasn't a knight. Even If I wasn't your Servant, I wouldn't allow anyone to harm an innocent. If you feel responsible for what happened to her, then I'll do my best to save her!"

"..."

Leo was stunned. Of course he had expected the perfect knight Galahad to rescue people like a superhero. Even if he wasn't a knight, even if he wasn't Leo's Servant, it was normal for Galahad to help those in need.

That wasn't what surprised Leo.

(... He's sharp.)

Saber was sharp. He had unserstood that Leo felt responsible for Maria's kidnapping. He didn't need to say he was gonna help Leo, he had already told him he would be his sword.

Then, the sole reason for him to say it out loud...

"Thank you, Saber. I'm really glad I can count on you." Leo replied with honesty.

Saber had bothered to make this declaration to help Leo feel better. He was touched of his concern, he who had considered the knight as an emotionless machine.

(I've been hard not to consider him as a human being. He can have preferences, feel bad for others...)

Leo hoped the knight didn't notice as well what he had thought of him. He will have to apologize to him later.

"Though," Leo leaned back on his bed. "I still feel like I'm forgetting something important."

What had Abraham told him? In a few hours, he will take a boat to the Azores. That much he remembered. And then what?

"Oh, right. He told me my partner would be..."

Lancer's Master...

The Master of the bragging Japanese spearman...

But, it was...

"Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?" Leo whined as he buried his head in his pillow. "Why does it have to be Hatsuyoooooooo?"

"Is this Hatsuyo person someone you don't like?" Saber asked.

"Mh?" Leo lifted his head from the cushion to think. "Well, I don't really hate her. I've met her at the time I arrived atthe Clock Tower and each time we've met since then, we've fought so you cannot really say that we're friend either. Well, I guess there's always that one person you can't get along with." Burying his face in his pillow again, Leo asked: "Tell me, Saber. Didn't you know someone like that when you were alive? Someone you just can't get along with and always end up having an argument with?"

Saber sat on the bed to think.

"Percival was a very cheerful and brave knight. His sister was a pure maiden who helped as much as she could. Bors was just and stayed with me and Perceval until the very end." The knight mused. "My father, though he had sinned by betraying the king, was a great knight that I used admire."

"They were your partners in your quest. I doubt you guys ever had an argument."

"We once had..." Saber stopped talking for a moment. "All the other knights of the Round Table were as valiant and determined as we were, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I never got to know them. The only ones who ventured by side during my quest were Bors, Percival and his sister."

That wasn't a lot. Hell, even Leo knew more people than the knight. In his head, Leo had thought of Galahad as a successful knight who rode through Britain in search of the Grail, living all kinds of knightly adventures on the way.

Yet, in the end, Galahad was just an isolated knight who only sought for the Grail and nothing else. People outside of his quest were complete stranger to him.

"Though..." Saber's voice stopped Leo's train of thought. "I cannot imagine someone with whom you'd only fight."

"It wasn't an exaggeration. We really did nothing else than argue since we've known each other."

Arguing about important things. Arguing about meaningless things. Arguing about the weather.

Ah...

"Maybe there was one time we didn't quarrel."

"What was it?"

"Well, Hatsuyo has a short temper so she get angry really quickly. On the other hand, it's not rare for Asian magi to be discriminated at the Mage's Association. To put it simply, one day an instructor had been pretty harsh and she ended up head-butting him."

Leo paused. He remembered very well the surprise of everyone when she did that. Actualy, his heart missed a beat.

"No need to say, she was in deep shit for doing that."

"And you sided with her?"

"No." Siding with her would have been meaningless if the instructor had wanted to take his revanche on Hatsuyo. "I scolded her."

"?" Saber tilted his head. "How did that help."

A smirk appeared on Leo's face.

"I scolded her so hard the instructor didn't feel like doing anything. I don't remember why I helped her back then though."

"..."

After a short silence, Leo got up and walked out of his room.

"Well, I still have a few hours ahead of me. What can I do during this time?"

Saber wordlessly looked at Leo as he left.

* * *

 **St. Marie Island, Madagascar**

Linandir and Rider were walking on the same beach they were earlier in the morning. The sun was rising anymore, however, and their reason to be there were completely different.

Earlier, during the meeting, it was decided which Master and Servant would go on which battlefield.

Ewald and Lancer would go search the Grail Shard situated in the North of China, accompanied by Mr. Blackeye and Saber.

Linandir gritted his teeth when thinking about Lancer's Master. He had already talked about his worries and he knew that Blackeye had been chosen to look after him. For now, all he could do was focusing on his own mission.

Linandir and Rider were heading to the Azores in order to help Elena Bujart and Archer who were already looking for the Shard.

"Rider." They were now standing right in front of the waves. "Let's go."

Rider, rather than picking on his Master for giving him and order, showed a wide crazy smile on his face and started to laugh maniacally.

The mad emperor spread his arms on each side of his body as if to embrace the world, and Linandir could feel him digging in his reserve of prana. The collected prana gathered in the sea in front of them and the ground began to shake a little.

"Rejoice! Rejoice! **Diana** **Nemorensis: Floating Temple of the Moon**!"

The ground shook harder. Suddenly, a boat emerged from water like a submarine.

It wasn't a small boat: it was so large a small army could stand on it. The wooden hull looked made of gold and was decorated by what looked like lapis-lazuli. It didn't have a sail, but two large row were visible on each side of the ship.

"My fight start now." Linandir said with an determined look in his eyes.

* * *

"It should be around here..."

Leo and Saber were wandering in a small harbour. They were actually looking for the boat supposed to take him to the Azores, but Leo didn't check the location before leavig his apartment. As such, he didn't knew the meeting was at a place he didn't know well and ended up walking in circle until he finally found the port he was looking for.

And because of that, he was now short on time.

"Ah. Is that it?"

Luckily, the piece of paper given to him by Abraham also contained a physical description of the boat. Without that, the Master and his Servant wouldn't have been able to spot the red ship waiting at the end of the line.

(Good thing I didn't do like in those movies and didn't eat the paper after reading it.) Leo though.

"I confirm, Master. I can feel the presence of a Servant inside." Saber commented.

There was no mistake, it was their boat. Even so, Leo approached and got on board carefully, as if he was afraid of being found out.

Once on the ship, he noticed there was no noise on it. No one seemed to be there.

(Are they not there yet? No, Saber said he felt the presence of a Servant. Wait, does that mean...!)

Leo suddenly tensed up.

If Hatsuyo and Abraham weren't here, but that Saber felt the presence of a Servant... was that the work of an enemy Servant?

A _dohhn_ sound effect dominated the deck of the boat.

Yet, as Leo was ready to dive like in an ation movie, an angry voice rose behind him.

"You're late."

Usually, upon suddenly hearing a voice from behind him, Leo would have jumped in surprise with an unmanly scream. But he knew this voice all too well to have a natural reaction at this moment. He spined around swiftly and into his opponent's eyes.

"Who's late? Aren't you the one who just arrived after me?" Leo replied to the grumby Hatsuyo Toriyama.

"As if." Hatsuyo clicked her tongue. "I just left for a few minutes came back."

"Oh? And left for what reason, may I know?"

"None of your business! Though, I'm surprised Lancer let you get here. I ordered him not to let anyone suspicious ine boat."

"Says the one walking around with a katana at her belt dat and night!"

"It's normal for a samurai to carry a katana. It's a social symbol!"

"Not in the 21th century! And samurai my ass! Isn't bushido all about calm and respect of the opponent? You swing that sword around way too easily!"

"Tch! Busted." Hatsuyo muttured in her breath.

"See? You admit it!"

"I admit nothing. But if you insist, why not check yourself if I'm a samurai or not?" Hatsuyo answered with hostility and brought her hand to the hilt of her sword.

"Come at me!"

Of course, Leo couldn't fight against her like that. Even if she was a poor excuse of a samurai, she was still a trained swordman, and Leo didn't expect to be able to pull out something like catching the sword like in a manga. He had just answered out of the blue because Hatsuyo's logic pissed him off, and he was fired up to kick her ass.

"Will you two stop your childishness!" Abraham, who had just come out from inside the boat where he was quietly studying a map of the Azores archipelago, shouted at the two teenagers.

This time, Leo let out an unmanly scream.

"D-dammit... It's the third time today." Leo breathed heavily. "I'm gonna have some serious heart trouble at this rate!"

"If you're healthy enough to scream, you should do fine." With a mocking tone, Lancer took physical shape right next to Hatsuyo.

The spearman was slightly bent, holding his sides and visibly doing his best not to laugh.

"What was that, though? 'Come at me!', huh? Haha! Good to know our ally is someone brave enough to face a blade empty-handed! Hahahahahahahaha!"

"No." Saber, who had stayed silent until now, interupted Lancer's laugh. "I wouldn't have let that happen."

Lancer starred at Saber who starred at him in return. It was the first time they saw each other and they were judging each other's worth off the top of their head.

"Pff." Lancer puffed. "You say that but you weren't moving at all when they were about to leap at each other."

Leo looked at Saber, waiting for his reply. But to his surprise, the later merely averted his gaze.

(Hey. Don't tell me you thought it was funny too!) Leo cursed in his head.

"Oh? So this is Saber." Hatsuyo looked at the knight, saying nothing else.

Because she said that, Leo returned his attention to her. That's why, he suddenly noticed something he hadn't paid attention to earlier.

"Hatsuyo-"

"I already told you it was 'Toriyama-san' for you!"

"Yeah, whatever. What is this armor you're wearing? It's the first time I see it."

Hatsuyo's leg, arms and torso were covered by some kind of black armor. It didn't look like an european armor, nor like a samurai armor. It didn't even covered all of her body. Not only that but, besides the katana she always had on her, at her belt was a second sword. It looked skillfully crafted yet brand new.

Hatsuyo puffed her chest in pride.

"That's the equipment that Caster have made for me." She declared with a haughty tone.

"Caster?" The image of the blacksmith floated at the back of Leo's head.

"Yep. Still, this guy is incredible." Lancer praised. It felt weird to hear him praise someone else than himself. "I guess EX-rank Item Construction is no joke. These must be on the level of a Noble Phantasm."

Indeed. If the Mystic Codes crafted by Caster of Red were on the level of a Noble Phantasm, the trump card of a Servant, it was one hell of an advantage. Though Leo wasn't the kind of person to us weapon, he couldn't help feeling a bit jealous of Hatsuyo, which the later noticed.

"Yes~. It seems you understand your position now."

"As if! It's not because you have some superweapons that I can't royally kick your ass."

"Oh yeah? Then why don't you come here and dare to repeat that?"

"The two of you stop!" Abraham scolded them. "Now that you are all here, I'll go tell the captain we can go." Abraham went back inside the boat, but came back instantly to point at Hatsuyo and Leo. "And interdiction to fight while I'm away!"

* * *

 **Later**

* * *

It didn't take long to make the debriefing. In the end, they didn't knew anything aside from the fact that there is a Grail Shard somewhere in the Azores and that the magi sent to find it had been killed.

Given the small time gap between their death, it is suspected they were killed by a Servant. If that was the case, then i was possible as well that their opponent had already found the Grail Shard and were gone.

And so now all that was left to do was waiting.

For a long time...

For a very long time...

For so long that Leo was sprawling on the floor of the room, bored to death. After the pain procured by this position persuaded him to get up, he took out a pack of cards from his bag (which, for some reason, he had brought with him, along with poker coins) and proposed to play poker.

Only Hatsuyo accepted the challenge. Abraham instantly refused with a groan and stay in his corner of the room. Saber had first stared at the pack of cards, but when Leo asked him if he wanted to play he refused, saying he didn't like games. And Lancer wasn't allowed to play because he would join force with Hatsuyo, and he wasn't allowed to take spirit form either.

While Leo simply wanted to play in order to kill time, Hatsuyo looked fired up and insisted on betting objects, much like a strip poker. When he saw her confident smile, Leo had been a little afraid. But soon he noticed she simply knew nothing of poker, and a cruel smile appeared on his face, hidden by his cards.

"Seriously." Abraham grumbled. "What are they thinking, playing while they're about to go on a battlefield?"

Lancer, who was sitting next to him because he wasn't allowed to stay behind Leo as well, chuckled.

"I don't see anything wrong with that, on the opposit." The spearman crossed his legs as if he was about to tell a story. "Listen to this samurai who as been through more than a hundred battles. At my time, death was daily routine and people like me who died of old age aren't that plentiful. Of course, no one went to battle with the intention of dying, but the fact his lots of soldiers would die." Lancer paused a little. "If I found soldiers playing befire a battle, do you think I should have punished them? That I should have stripped away these soldier's fun, knowin they would probably die on the battlefield?"

"I understand what you say, but this isn't the Sengoku period. This war is different han any of those you led during your life."

Lancer snickered. "How is it any different? Those who aren't strong enough will be trampled and there will be many worthy opponent on the way. Really, I don't see any difference." He leaned against the wall and looked at Leo and Hatsuyo with an amused look. "Plus, don't you find it entertaining?"

While the Magus and Lancer had been discussing, the game between the two Masters had progressed really quickly. Hatsuyo's new armor and sword were lying next to Leo as war loot. The later had a huge grin on his face while Hatsuyo looked far less confident than she was a few minutes ago.

"Well, well~." Leo said as if singing. "What are you gonna bet now? I guess you won't want to bet your only katana left. Then what~? Your clothes?"

Leo was only kidding. Right now, he was savouring his superiority but of course he had planned everything back after they finished. But Hatsuyo visibly didn't understand that, and his last comment had an unwanted effect.

"My clothes?! You pervert. You're actually trying to undress me aren't you?!"

"Who are you calling a pervert? You're the one who insisted to-"

"I can't let that sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide!"

Hatsuyo leaped on him, her sword still sheathed but in her hands nonetheless. However, it was unknown wether it had been the rampaging samurai or if he had slipped while trying to dodge her, but Leo hit his head hard against the ground and was knocked unconscious.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading and sorry for finishing this chapter later than I should have. Because I'm back to school, I have less time to write Fate/Rongodamiant, aside from my other important project._

 _Sorry for the lack of action up until now, it will eventually come, teehee~. But with so many characters, the serie needs a minimum of setting._

 _About the Servants sheets: I'll remove those I've made for the precedent chapters as I have rewriten them recently. Also, rather than putting them at the end of the chapter, I'll make another 'serie' called 'Fate-Rongodamiant: Servant Sheet' that I'll update as the serie goes on._

 _As usual, feel free to comment or criticize._

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	7. Chapter VI: The Calm Before the Storm

**Chapter VI: The Calm Before the Storm**

* * *

«Finally...»

The inside of a church.

The light passing through the stain-glassed windows was bathing the place in a magic light.

Standing in the middle, here he was…

King Galahad.

Older than the knight who found the Grail. His facial hair had grown and his gaze was much wiser than it used to be.

«After all this time… Thank goodness...»

Next to him, in the hand of an old man…

The Holy Grail.

Not a device to grant wishes. It was the genuine and first cup of Heavens. But the king was ignoring it now. He walked past Josephus, in direction of the altar.

He was walking slowly, beholding the light glittering though the stain glass like a man who walked in the night all his life.

«Now that this is done… This knight… This Galahad...»

He breathed a sigh of relief.

He stretched out his hand to the light. But he couldn't see it anymore.

«Percival… Bors…»

His voice was weakening.

His eyes were closing.

«Farewell my friends...»

«Galahad...»

Ah, the voice of his dear friend Percival.

«Ah, that's right… Bors, please greet my father for me…»

«Do not worry, I will.»

Ah, the voice of his companion Bors. A noble and proud voice. A touch of sorrow…

«I bid thee farewell, my friends… In the end, it has been… Ah, who knows?… Maybe…»

The noise of something falling to the ground.

The king fell to his knee.

The knight prostrated in front of the altar.

Galahad let out a last sigh.

Not a noise in the church.

Not a tear on the two knights' face.

They knew this moment would come.

Still, they should have cried their friend nonetheless.

But how could they show their sadness so openly when their friend looked so happy?

* * *

«…I'm sorry.»

«No, you're not.» Leo answered dryly.

Hatsuyo had pulled out an half-assed apology for knocking him out and averted her gaze. He was even ready to bet she had crossed her fingers behind her back. She wasn't sorry.

The two of them and Abraham were on the boat's deck as they were getting closer to the harbor of Ponta Delgada, the capital of the Azores. The city wasn't all that spectacular compared to London, but that was probably what Leo apreciated the most. To him who had stayed a year without leaving London and the Clock Tower, the small coastal city and the medium-sized houses were truly refreshing.

It didn't take long for them to reach the small port where they disembarked. When they did, the captain of the boat made a small motion of farewell and left.

«How are we going to go back to London now?» Leo asked, surprised.

«We'll find a way when we'll be done.» Abraham answered grimly. «And in case things turn bad, I wouldn't want this man to wait for us too long.»

«Hey, never go to battle expecting to die. That's the best way of kicking the bucket, you know?» Lancer told the adult magus with a joking tone. His words however, were probably true, if only partially.

«Lancer's right. We just have to find these fuckers of Black and do them in, right?»

«In case you didn't listen, Miss Toriyama, it's not that simple.» Abraham said with a grumpy voice, visibly displeased that Hatsuyo didn't understood the mission. «Killing the other Masters and Servants is optional. If it's necessary, of course, we'll have to fight, but the priority goes to finding the Grail Shard.»

«And they won't show up so easily, will they?» Lancer commented.

Leo wasn't listening to them. Right now, he was simply standing, eye closed, and feeling the soft wind on his face. Though it was winter, the air temperatur was way warmer than London's, and sun was bright in the blue sky. Normally, Leo would enjoy this small holiday, if it wasn't for the Holy Grail War.

«Man, what a waste.» Leo sighed.« It's a perfect time to laze around.»

«We aren't here to sunbath.» Hatsuyo growled. «Didn't you sleep enough?»

«Whose fault is it already?» Leo asked retorically.

«...»

She didn't reply. To Hatsuyo, admitting a mistake was harder than bowing her head. Though, it's still better than if she was the kind to commit seppuku. She was right however; in the end, he was able to go back to bed -metaphorically though. When he woke up, it was long past noon and they were about to arrive.

«She's right, Master. Now is not the moment to relax.» Saber sided with Hatsuyo.

«I know that.» Leo whined. «By the way, I already told you to stop calling me Master.»

True, he couldn't slack off. It wasn't like a homework he didn't want to do. Here, he had no choice but to fight. Or so he thought, but the idea he was involved in a war still sounded unreal, even for a magus like him. It hadn't been a week since the Command Spells had appeared on his hand, and to him it felt like a day full of unexpected events; in other words, it felt more like a dream.

But as he thought that, Leo's phone suddenly rang.

«He? Who is it that would-»

Checking the screen of his cellphone, he saw the name of his uncle. As soon as he picked up, Michael's warm voice resounded in Leo's ear.

«'Sup! I heard you guys are in the Azores so I thought I would say hello at least. In fact, it's the twentieth time I'm trying to join you.»

«Oncle Michael… what do you mean the twentieth time?! Did you think about the price?!»

«Like I care.» Michael puffed. «The bill is for the Association.»

Leo sighed in his mind. Truly, there was only his uncle to say something like that.

«And so, why did you call, in the end?»

«Can't I call my nephew before going to war? The humanity.»

«It's just that you can't call me like that when I'm this situation.»

«You say that but you don't sound too stressed. Yeah, that's one of the thing I wanted to tell you...»

«Mh?»

«Listen Leo. No matter the situation, do not get wrapped up in a Servant fight, you hear me?»

«Is that it? I can guess that much.»

«Really? Well, I think you'll understand when you'll actually see it. Anyway, I have to get going to.»

«Where do they send you, Oncle Michael?»

«In Danemark. That's right, you get the sun and I get the snow, you lucky bastard.»

«At least you didn't get knocked out.» Leo muttured. Though he had said it in a low voice, Michael still managed to hear him.

«Knocked out? What happened? Did you fight already?!»

«Er, no that's nothing… Anyway, thank you for the call.»

«Take care of yourself. Well, I complained but I'm not sure I'll have time to freeze, especially with Rider. This guy's _fired up_.»

Leo didn't understood, but it seemed Michael did a bad joke. He always had a particular tone in this case. But before Leo had the time ti say anything, his uncle hanged up.

«He behave just like a kid.» Leo put his phone back in his pocket, before noticing the rest of the group was looking at him in a weird way. «What? Don't look at me like I'm an anomaly!»

«It looks like you don't get the mood.» Abraham commented. «Anyway, we have to move on.»

«To where exactly? I thought we didn't knew where they are.»

«Candelária. That's where we were last contacted with the magi sent here.»

* * *

Alone on a balcony at night, a young man was staring at the full moon. It was the balcony of a great and beatiful palace. Inside, the spacious room was decorated with red and golden. Though it was night, there should have been a few slaves walking around, but for some reason there was none.

The young man, to blend into this scenery, was wearing a red toga of the highest quality, but his strong build made him stand out even more. His short burgundy hair were fluttering in the wind, sometime covering his eyes. But his gaze didn't waver because of that. He was staring intensely and anxiously at the full moon, as if hoping for an answer from it.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him. Slow and heavy footsteps resonating in the large room which was empty aside from the young man. When the later heard the footsteps approaching, he tensed up a little. He had been expecting these footsteps, or rather he had been hoping for them. Yet, he couldn't help being anxious.

When the footsteps finally stopped, the young man didn't even turn around. All he did was asking a question to the silence.

«Is that you, Macro?»

«Of course. Who else could it be?»

The young man sighed and turned around to look at the middle-aged man wearing a white and golden toga. The praetor Naevius Sutorius Macro.

«So? How did it go?» The young man asked.

«Everything went without a problem. I smothered him with a pillow and made sure to make it look like a natural death.»

«No one saw you?»

«I made sure of that as well.» Macro replied wry smile. His confident behavior finished to relax the young man.

The later let out a relieved sigh. It was strange for the one who plotted this murder to be the most stressed. But it didn't matter anymore. Now, it was done and nobody would suspect him. Well, some people will, unavoidably, but it wouldn't change anything.

A mocking smirk appeared on his face, and he turned around to stare at moon again. But this time, he wasn't expecting any answer from it. He was just contempling it.

His smirk slowly turned into a small laugh, and he spread his arm while looking at the moon as if it was a jewel.

«So that's it? That's how the great Tiberius end? Pitiful!»

«He was only a shadow of what he used to be. But now that he's dead, you and Gemellus are to rule together.»

«Ha! As if I would share my power with this good for nothing! Even Tiberius didn't expect anything of him, this son of a traitor.» A short laugh. «Now that I think about it, I don't know why I was afraid of murdering him. Had I killed him myself out in the open, the crowds would have acclaimed me!»

«Then, what will we do about Gemellus? They won't let it slide as easily if we just kill him too.»

«There's no need to. We simply have to void Tiberius' will regarding Gemellus on grounds of insanity.» The young man turned around to look at his ally. «Of course, I can count on your backup, can't I?»

Macro sneered.

«Indeed. It won't be the hardest part.»

«Perfect.»

The young man looked outside for the third time, but this time, it wasn't for looking at the moon. He was looking at the city around the palace.

«Tomorrow, all the empire will rejoice!»

* * *

«Oh…»

Linandir groaned.

His head hurt a little and he could feel something hard on his forehead. Slowly, he opened his eyes and raised his head.

When he looked around, he saw he was sitting at one of the table of an empty bar. Outside, though it wasn't night yet, it wouldn't take long for the sun to set.

«Did I fall asleep…?»

That was probably it. Rider's boat only cost prana to be summoned, but it still took a heavy toll on Linandir. It was probably why he had fallen asleep.

«That dream...»

He had dreamed about Rider's past, no doubt about that. Yet, he didn't manage to reconize the future young emperor. It wasn't because of his appearance; he didn't change much. It wasn't either because of his personality. The Rider in his dream wasn't a saint, and his arrogance looked like that of the actual Rider.

It was the eyes.

All the time the young Rider had been watching the moon, his eyes had been sober and full of life. The Rider Linandir had summoned wasn't like that. His eyes were flooded by insanity, by a extravagant madness.

«How ironic. The man who accused his yet-to-be adoptive son of insanity was the one to dwell in it...» He mused.

The sound of a door opening behind him made him come back to his senses. Linandir turned around to see Archer of Black's Master, Elena Bujart, walk in his direction. The woman looked in her late twenties, though her real age was unknown. She was wearing a crimson red fur coat with black butterflies patterns on it. It was going well with her her as red as her coat and her expression of close to anger.

There was no way to know if she was really angry or not, as she always had this look on her face. Maybe it was one of the reason her name at the Mage's Association was 'The Burning Lady'.

«Ah, you've finally woken up.»

«Miss Bujart. What time is it?»

«The time to start moving. Our opponents are heading this way as well.»

«?» Linandir tilted his head. «You've spotted them already?»

«Not that hard.» Elena sneered. «It was obvious they wouldn't take something as easily targetable as a plane, so they would come in boat. I simply sent a familiar at the most used harbour of the island. If they go to another island there's no need to care about them.»

«I'm quite impressed.» Linandir got up from his chair and stretched out. «That you are so prepared. So this town as well...»

«To be honest, I just followed Archer's advice. Archer, come.»

As Elena called out is name, Archer of Black took his phisical form next to her. He was a grown man in the prime of life with curly black hair and beard. He had the eyes of someone who went through all the dangers the world had to offer, and the Greek iron cuirass he was wearing reinforced this feeling.

«Explain him the situation.» Elena ordered.

«Linandir, where is Rider right now?» The bowman asked.

«Rider? I allowed him to walk around the town.»

Candelária wasn't that big a town, so it wouldn't be hard to look for him even without mental connection. In fact, you would just have to listen to the noises. This town was so silent…

«I see.» Archer simply said. «Anyway, here is about our progression.»

Archer sat in front of Linandir and displayed a map in front of him. It was a map of the Azores obviously, but there were many red cross all across it.

«Simply put, we've looked everywhere. We've searched on each and every island on the map but we couldn't find the Grail Shard.»

«But we confirmed it was here, right? How can you be sure it wasn't anywhere?»

«There's no objective proof of it, of course. Us Servants cannot feel the presence of the Grail. At least, not until we get close enough of it. However...» Archer pointed at one part of the map where there was nothing.

«What's wrong? Could it be in the sea?»

«It's not impossible. However, before that, we tried elsewhere. Don't you find it strange that nobody in the archipelago ever noticed something falling from the sky?»

«… It is, indeed. But isn't it another indicator that it has fallen in the sea?»

«I'm not finished.» Archer insisted. «The fact that nobody noticed it means that nobody could notice it. In other word, it is possible that the Grail Shard act as a Bounded Field.»

Linandir thought about Archer's word. A bounded field; it wasn't impossible. After all, it was the first time something like this World Holy Grail War happened so classifying it as 'impossible' wasn't intelligent.

«I see. Then what do we do? If it's presence cannot be felt, do you have any idea how to find it?»

«We've already found it.»

«Really?!»

Then what were they waiting for?!

«To be more precise, we've found the most likely place. But it's not that simple...»

* * *

Leo, Hatsuyo, Abraham and Saber had been walking for more than an hour now.

They had puposefully avoided walking on the road so that, in case of attack, there would be no witness. But that didn't change anything in the end as they saw nobody on their way to Candelária. No civilian. No Master nor Servant.

It was as if everyone had suddenly felt the urge to be somewhere else. Maybe it had to do with the fact the sun was setting. In any case, the place was completely and awkwardly silent. There had been a few tries to break the silence; Lancer talked about his campaigns, though to someone like Leo who didn't knew shit about Japan's history, it felt like the spearman was talking about Wonderland; Hatsuyo and Leo had tried playing Rock-Paper-Scissors, but like anything they did together it ended in a fight -and Leo was pretty sure there was no fourth move such as 'Katana' in Rock-Paper-Scissors.

To sum up: Leo was bored, had a bruise on his cheek and his feet felt like he had been walking all day -which wasn't the case given he had been sleeping for the most of the boat trip.

«Abraham.» Leo called out in despair. «Do you know what distance we still have walk to get there?»

«We're almost there. In fact, you should soon be able to see it.»

Leo let out a huge sigh of relief.

«Oh, by the way. You said Candelária was the last place you were contacted by our magi, right? But what did they say back then?»

«...»

Abraham didn't answer. When he looked at his face, Leo felt a shiver down his spine. The serious face-pockmarked face wasn't child-friendly to begin with, but the dangerous look in Abraham's eyes was somewhat eerie. He looked like he was hesitating.

«I lied about that.» Abraham finally opened his mouth to say that.

«Say what?»

«We were never contacted by the magi sent here.»

«Why did you say that then?!»

Abraham looked at the horizon, or rather at the top of the hill in front of them, as if looking at what was behind.

«To make sure neither of you would run away.»

«Eh? Why would we run a-»

«You'll understand in a few seconds. In fact, I'm surprised you didn't notice it yet.»

«?»

Leo tilted his head in confusion. What was it that Abraham was talking about. Hatsuyo didn't seem to understand either, but Saber was on his guard. He looked as if he was ready to unsheath the sword at his belt; of course it had been like that when they had started walking, but little by little he had relaxed. In fact, maybe it was the same thing for Lancer, as the latter wasn't herad for the last ten minutes.

Leo started to feel a little uneasy, as if someone was softly blowing in his neck. Was it the same thing as when you're persuaded to be ill, you start feeling bad?

Only a few steps until the top of the hill.

Five steps.

Nothing.

Four steps.

Rien.

Three steps.

Nada.

Two ste-

«!»

Suddenly, Leo felt it as well. How did he not notice it earlier?!

«That's...»

Visually speaking, everything was alright: the hill allowed a good view on the town, and the setting sun in the background was tainting the sky and the sea of red, making it a beautiful scenery. The problem couldn't be seen.

Magical energy.

When one used magecraft, other magi are able to feel it. Even after thaumaturgy is used, there can be residuals indicating one used magecraft. Of course, if it isn't a spell big enough to consume a lot of prana, it will be hard to detect. But what he had in front of him…

«Bounded Field.» Abraham casually said. «The reason I was sent on this mission is because my specialty is to detect the use of magecraft. As soon as we arrived, I could feel it.»

Maybe because he genuinely avoided anything magecraft-related, Leo couldn't feel the presence of magecraft. Hatsuyo probably didn't feel it either because she barely qualified as a magus.

«It looks like a double-layered bounded field. Hmph, they didn't even try to dissimulate it. Either those guys are amateurs or this is a trap.»

Of course it was a trap. The bounded field set up around the town was just meant to say: ' _Hey, we're here_ _s_ _o come_ _to get us_ _!_ '.

But right now, it wasn't what woried Leo the most. There was a strange feel in the air, some kind of morbid silence.

«It smell too fishy. Can't we just destroy the whole town at once?» Hatsuyo suggested.

«Oi, Master, I don't think we could get away with that.»

Leo wasn't listening. Right now, his thoughts were focused on the town in front of him.

The town was surrounded by a bounded field. Two according to Abraham.

Most likely, these bounded fields were there to lure Leo and the rest here.

And if that was the case, the people inside…

«Master, are you alright?»

Saber put his hand on Leo's shoulder and asked him this question. As he was standing in front of Abraham and Hatsuyo, the magi couldn't see Leo's face but it probably wasn't pretty if it could worry Saber. Putting his hand on Leo's shoulder was probably Saber's way of reassuring him, but that was a mistake. Because rather than calming him, it made him get out of his torpor.

«…! Master!» Saber called at Leo as the latter started running downhill in direction of the town.

He also heard the voice of Hatsuyo and Lancer behind him, but Leo didn't stop. There were bounded fields around the town, but if they were meant to draw him in, he could probably get through easily. Of course, it didn't change the fact that he was charging alone in enemy territory but Leo was a newbie when it came to tactic so this thought didn't really occure to him.

But more importantly, he had to know one thing.

A question without an answer.

An answer would come up in his mind but he wasn't even listening to himself.

He was moving based on his instinct.

«…...»

When he arrived into the town, nothing has changed. The sun, the houses, the street; everything seemed normal. But if it looked normal, it didn't _feel_ normal. The silence he had felt from the hill had transformed into a heavy whispering. This whispering was that of the wind, beckoning him to walk further into the town. He answered that invitation.

A noise in the distance was resonating. Maybe it was just a glass bottle rolling on the floor, but to Leo it felt like a snicker. Someone was snickering at him for accepting the invitation and was snickering thinking about what he would find.

«He…hehe… It's not like me to think so much.» Leo muttured to himself.

When he took a few more step, he arrived in a larger street. There, he found his answer.

Though he was a magus, Leo wasn't all that knowledgeable about the dark side of the world. What he had liked the most up to now was to leave peacefully with his uncle and his cousin.

But Leo was a magus. As such, he knew that there was a dark side of the world and that magi were at the center of it. That's why, when he understood that Candelária had been trapped by magi, he had feared for the inhabitant of the town.

But how to describe the scene in front of him?

«Why…?»

Tens of people -adults, teenagers, children and old people of both gender were lying in the street.

Asleep.

The way they were lying down, they looked like they were all sleeping.

But they weren't asleep. There was no such thing as everyone in a town falling asleep at the same time in the middle of a street. Beside, some of them clearly hadn't been sleepy: a man had fallen on the grocery bag he had been holding, crushing the content; a bicker had fallen off her bike which ended up in a shop window; a little girl, although asleep, was tightly holding the string of a baloon.

«Why?»

Why? Why was Leo relieved?

True, the answer he had imagined was much worse, but it didn't change the fact that all these people were dead. Yet, in his heart, Leo felt it was fine -that it was better that way.

Leo wasn't the kind of good guy you'd find in a manga. He couldn't simply cry for the death of people he never met. But he wasn't an asshole, and seeing so many persons dead affected him.

But he thought it was better that way. It was better that they looked like they died peacefully in their sleep. It was better than the answer he had imagined.

That's what he thought.

.

.

.

.

Until he found them.

* * *

The sun couldn't be said to be setting anymore, as all was left was a deep red dot at the horizon. It reminded of the last ember burning amidst the ash in a fireplace. Yet, someone was still watching it.

Standing on the beach of a beatiful tropical island, Saber of White's Master, Ivan Pedilefey, was happily humming while watching this burning dot over the sea. The song he was humming was an old forgotten lullaby which sounded like a sweet memory. Strangely, because the waves were at the same pace as his voice, it gave the feeling the sea was singing with him, and if one listened carefully they could hear the wind as well.

A few meter behind him, Saber of White was watching the horizon as well and was listening to Ivan's lullaby while closing his eyes. While not as cheerful as his Master, he was in a good mood.

When the sun had finally completely disappeared, Ivan stopped singing. All that could be heard now was the sound of the waves breaking on the shore.

«You seem really cheerful for someone who'll have to fight soon.» Saber noted.

«Why wouldn't I be cheerful? After all, this Holy Grail War is finally starting!»

«He, you're right. You still didn't tell me why you want the Grail though. You're the one who started this war after all.»

Ivan had told him how he had found the Grail Shard on this island and heard an unknown voice from it who told him how to activate the Grail. If he was the one who started the ritual known as the Holy Grail War, it was obvious Ivan would have a wish for the Grail to grant.

«Mmh, the reason I didn't tell yet is because I don't have one.»

«Ha? Then why did you activate the Grail to start with?» Saber asked while raising an eyebrow.

Ivan chucled.

«I do not have a wish but I have an aim. Well, maybe that 'aim' is the wrong word, so let's say a desire.» Ivan swiftly turned around to face his Servant. «Just like Chris' Origin is Gift, mine is 'Rarity'. Jewels, relics, spells and even people. During my life, I've always been trying to gather as much rarities as I can.»

«Even people you say? Then you mean...»

«You're right! Activating the Grail was for me an occasion to gather as many rare persons -Masters and Servants alike- as possible. This White Faction is a perfect exemple. Oh, by the way, did you know all of the catalysts we used at the exception of Caster's are relics I gathered during my life?»

«So what you're saying-» Saber sat on the cold sand and crossed his legs. «Is that you don't want to win the war.»

«Well, I guess getting my hands on something like the Holy Grail would be wonderful, but that's not my primary goal, sorry.» Ivan sincerely apologized to Saber.

«Hmph.» But the later guffawed. «It doesn't matter to me. It's not like I was aiming for the Grail either. All I want is a good fight.» Saber stretched his arms and layed back on the sand.

«Well then, that's perfect.» Ivan concluded. «Beside, there are people in this war with wishes more important than my caprice...»

«...»

A long silence came afterward. Saber closed his eyes and listened at the sound of the waves. Servants didn't need to sleep but it didn't mean he couldn't apreciate a nap. Though, as he was about to fall asleep, Saber suddenly heard quick footsteps comig in their direction.

As if he hadn't been trying to sleep, Saber stood up instantly, but calmed down when he saw the one approaching them was Chris Mantel in the compagny of Archer of White.

«Teacher!»

Chris was running and waving in their direction but, when he saw Saber, he suddenly came to a stop and turned back to hide behind Archer. When he saw that Saber sighed. For some reason it looked like the young boy was uncomfortable with him. Nonetheless, the swordman waved back at him with a fatherly smile. The truth was he loved children, and he had more than one foster-son. Seeing that, Chris seemed to relax a bit as he was now only half hidden behind Archer. The later was as usual cold and authoritarian, and she was visibly displeased of the effect Saber had on her Master. Though even a women lover like him had trouble with her, Saber greeted her as well.

«Good evening, king of Assyria.»

«Good evening, king of Ulster.» Archer answered coldly.

«Haha! I don't know if I ruled long enough to be called a king.» Saber laughed at himself.

«T-Teacher!» Chris called out to his mentor.

«Oh, good evening Chris! What's the matter?»

«Um… I wondered where the others were. I can't find them anywhere on the island.» The young boy asked timidely.

«You mean Rider and Lancer? If I remember right, they wanted to prove who was the best king with a race: the first one to bring back a Grail Shard wins or something like that.»

«But shouldn't we help them?»

«They should be fine on their own, I think. Thanks to our advance we were able to gather three Shards without having to fight, but we cannot go on like that forever. I said you could do whatever you want so if you want to give them a hand, you can, though their pride will probably be hurt.»

«Uh...» Chris hopped up and down with hesitation. Obviously he didn't really want to fight but he didn't want to let his 'comrades' down either, so all he could do was tugging Archer's clothes like an intimidated kid with their parents.

Realizing this, Archer decided to talk in place of her Master.

«We won't move unless it's necessary. If Lancer and Archer have half the strength they boast, they should be fine.»

Chris, though he was looking down, sighed of relief. Saber seriously wondered how such a non-violent child like him was doing in a ritual like the Holy Grail War, but it would probably do no good to ask him. Instead, it was Ivan who answered the bowwoman's declaration.

«My, I'm grateful that Chris has such an efficient person to his side. Please take care of him.»

«I don't need you to tell me that. The first objective of a Servant is to keep their Master alive.» Although there hadn't been one hint of sarcasm in Ivan's voice, Archer's reply was as cold as ice.

Saber's Master didn't seem to mind though. Instead, he had turned around again to look at where the sun had been not long ago. He whispered a few words even Saber, being the closest to him, couldn't hear.

«Well, anyway. After these fights, they'll all want a place to return to. This goes as well for Miss Golodiaïev and Miss Angelene.»

«Angelene… oh, Anastasia Angelene was it? Berserker's Master… Now that I think about it we haven't seen the two of them yet.» Saber commented.

«Indeed, Miss Angelene's condition doesn't allow her to travel much. Anyway, though we'll not fight immediatly we have to move as well.» Ivan raised his right hand in direction of the sea as if he was gonna catch something. «Grab something everyone, this is gonna shake a little.»

Ivan opened his magic circuit and let his prana flow in the air to the sand at his feet. Of course, the place where all this magical energy was heading wasn't visible.

Suddenly, just as Ivan had warned, the ground shook violently. Chris was almost projected into the sea but was saved by Archer's swift movements. Saber had been sitting until now so he didn't fall, but he now had sand all over him and even in his mouth. But the strangeness of the situation prevented him from complaining.

The shakings didn't stop and, when he looked at the sea, he saw the water was retreating. He also felt a strange sensation of ascent, as if the island was rising up from the sea.

No, it wasn't as if -the island was rising from the sea!

«The ark is ready.» Ivan simply said as the pure white hull of a giant boat surrounding the island appeared.

* * *

Quick steps resounding through the town.

Hatsuyo was dashing through the streets of Candelária as fast as she could. She jumped over a car which had crashed into a streetlight and kept running. She was keeping her her hand on the hilt of her katana but if a Servant attacked, her real insurance would be Lancer who was running in front of her.

«Dammit…This idiot! If it turns out to be a trap, I cut him in pieces when I find him!»

When that idiot Argas had started to run in direction of the town, she had been too surprised to run after him and pin him to the floor. Saber was a Servant so he had probably already catch up with his Master but Hatsuyo didn't have the specs of a Servant. Because of that, she was now far behind the two of them with Lancer, who was the only one able to pinpoint their location. Because her physical abilities were superior, Hatsuyo had left Abraham behind to catch up with this idiot.

«Lancer, how far are they?»

«Only a couple of streets away!»

Needless to say, she was angry. And the main victime of this anger was of course the idiot who threw himself in the lion's mouth. But thanks to her wrath and her focus on following Lancer, she couldn't pay much attention to the people lying on the street.

She didn't need to check to know they were dead. Not that she would pity them anyway; she wasn't the kind of person you'd find in a manga who'd cry for strangers they never met.

But if she stopped and looked at them one by one, she might get even pissed. As she was now, a good kick in this idiot's butt would calm her down. But if she was to look at them right now…

«Next on your right!» Lancer shouted.

When she turned right like he told her, Hatsuyo could indeed spot this idiot in the middle of the road. She didn't slow down and instead sped up with the intention of giving him a flying kick.

But she eventually slowed down when she noticed something wasn't right.

This idiot was kneeling down, facing towards the ground, and he was holding his stomach as if it hurt. Next to him, Saber was crouching and patting his Master's back. When the swordman heard them aproaching and lifted his head, it was obvious something happened. As she got closer, Hatsuyo was assalting by a disgusting smell.

«Eww. Throwing up in the middle of the street isn't class, you idiot.» Hatsuyo said as she pinched her nose.

After she said that, it seemed this idiot finally realized she was there as he raised his head silently look at her. If she still had any desire to smack him before, it had totally disappeared when she saw his pale face and his pitiful expression.

«What happened? Were you attacked or something?»

Obviously, he didn't have the force to speak so all he could do was shaking his head pitifully. It annoyed her not to know what happened, but it wouldn't help to force him to talk as he was now. Instead, she turned her her head to look at Lancer. The later was showing his back to her. He was looking at something in front of him but because he was in the way, she couldn't see what.

«Hey, Lancer, what's wrong.» Hatsuyo tried to push him aside but Lancer refused to move.

«Oi, Master.» He said in a slow voice. «It's better that you don't see that.»

«Heh? What do you mean?» She insisted and the spear man eventually moved aside reluctantly «What's th-»

Her face twitched.

Because she had pinched her nose, she hadn't noticed until now that there was another smell mixed with the smell of vomit.

A heavy smell of iron.

«Ugh...»

The smell was so unbearable she had to pinch her nose again.

Ten metres in front of them, there was something like five corpses. Unlike the rest of the dead people she had encountered before, these didn't look like they had an heart attack.

…Mutilated.

That was the best way she could describe them. They were completely covered in blood, but their wound were quite visible. Most of these wounds weren't fatal, but their bellies had been ripped open. Some had dislocated limps while the others had their ribs cruched.

…Tortured.

Hatsuyo wasn't an expert in that field, but she could tell the murderer just wanted to inflict the most pain possible before killing them.

But the worst was their face.

Half of them didn't have any recognizable feature, but one had their face mostly intact and twisted in an expression of pain. It was a young boy about twelve. The one who did that to him had drawn a wide smile on his face with his blood, in which was mixed the tears of the boy.

«Gh… dammit.»

Her stomach started to feel messed up. Hatsuyo averted her gaze to look back at the idiot who was still kneeling on the concrete. When she did she noticed Abraham had caught up with them and was looking at the scene with a disgusted look.

«One bounded field to keep people from entering, and one bounded field to prevent people from leaving. Thankfully the Candelária is too big so they only isolated one part of the city. If all the inhabitants of a city had been slaughtered, the existence of thaumaturgy could have been discovered.» He ticked his tongue. «The Church is supposed to take care of this kind of problem.»

«Abraham… You...» The idiot finally opened his mouth to let out a rattle of anger, but he was still under the shock of his discover and was slowly standing up.

«...»

«...»

Hatsuyo kept quiet but Abraham gazed at this idiot as if taunting him.

They might have started fighting if they didn't suddenly hear a noise only a few meters away from their position.

Immediatly, everyone was on their guard. Hatsuyo reached out for her sword; Saber stayed beside his Master, his shield lifted; Lancer didn't take out his spear but stood ready to fight back if someone attacked; Abraham didn't move much as there wasn't much he could do if a Servant attacked.

This idiot clearly wasn't ready to fight but he was nonetheless starring at where the noise came from. It seemed that it was so that he wouldn't have to look at this horrible scene again though.

«Who's there?!» Lancer shouted

«Eeek!»

«!»

However, much to their surprise, the person they saw didn't look like a magus, let alone a Servant. It was an old man wearing civilian clothes and who was looking at them as if they were monsters. Well, given the road soaked in blood right behind them, they probably looked the part.

«Ah… N-No!» The old man shouted and suddenly ran away.

«After him!» Lancer said and went after him.

Of course, the old man didn't go very far with a Servant pursuing him. Lancer had caught him by the arm almost immediatly and had brought him back. The old man was shaking and trying to get away, but Lancer tightened his grip.

«Who are you?» Hatsuyo asked him roughly.

«Whaaa! D-Don't kill me!» The old man wasn't even listening to her and was protecting his head with his free arm.

«Oi, we asked you a question-» Lancer took a menacing tone, but was prevented from doing anything by Saber's intervention.

«Lancer! He is just a civil, why are you being so brusque?» The knight asked in a neutral but firm voice.

«Ha? What makes you think he has nothing to do with this?»

«He doesn't have the presence of a Servant nor the Command Spells of a Master. Let him go.»

Grumbling, Lancer reluctantly let go of the old man's arm. The latter, although free, didn't dare to run, especially after seeing how fast the spearman was. Saber lowered his shield and approached him slowly.

«Don't worry, we do not wish to harm you.» Saber told the old man in the same neutral voice.

Maybe because it was still softer than Lancer's method, the frightened civilian seemed to relaxe a little. He lowered his arms and looked at them, alarmed.

«You… you aren't like them?» He asked shyly.

«Who are 'them'?»

«Those who did that! The monsters who-»

«Calm down. Please, tell us your name mister.» Saber tried to use a reassuring tone to sooth the old man but it sounded even more robotic that way.

Somehow, this lack of emotion in Saber's voice creeped even Hatsuyo who had no qualms using strength.

«I'm Outis. I'm the owner of a grocery store in a neighboring street.»

«I see. Please, Mr. Outis, can you tell us what happened?»

«I… I was taking a nap in my shop and I woke up when I heard a terrible scream. I thought I should go see what was going on and when I went out I saw… all these people I used to see everyday, dead...» Outis covered his face with his hands as if he was about to cry.

«Don't rush yourself, mister.»

Honestly, Hatsuyo was impressed that the knight's method gave results. If it had been her, Outis would have talked with a blade on his throat.

«Then… I went where the scream came from and there, I saw several persons, some of them weirdly dressed and one… torturing… a child...» Outis said the last words in a low voice. «I hid immediatly. I didn't dare… oh, I didn't dare… when they were done and left, I went back and tried to convince myself it was all a nightmare, but it didn't change anything. I decided to come back and see if there was any survivor, and that's where I found you.»

Hatsuyo and Abraham looked at each other and nodded.

«Do you know where they went?» Abraham asked him in a serious tone. «Didn't they say anything?»

«T-They mentioned the island.»

«Which island?»

«There's a small island not too far from Candelária. Nobody goes there though, as there's nothing.»

«That must be it.» Abraham concluded. «Tell us how to go to this island.»

* * *

In the harbour of Candelária, Outis waved his hand to the magi and Servants moving away from the city on a small boat they had stolen. When they were finally out of his sight, the 'old man' let out a small sighed of relief. Suddenly, a craking sound resounded in the night and Outis' body looked as if it was falling apart. His skin turned into dust and the one emerging from that cloud of dust was none other than Archer of Black.

 _Master, I've sent them to the island. Is Rider ready?_

 _Good. Rider is writhing in anticipation so it was about time. But are you sure it's a good idea?_

 _Of course. If everything goes according to the plan, retrieving the Grail Shard won't be too hard._

 _Well, I trust you. After all, you are the Man of a Thousand Tricks. Now, come back to me._

 _Understood._

«Alexander sure is giving me more work to do.» Archer sighed.

The island he had indicated to the Masters of Red was indeed the one where he thought the Shard was. Finding it hadn't been easy. Infact, for someone without any magic circuits, it was impossible. This island wasn't on any recent map, so the only reason they found it was because they happened to take a look at a map from thirteen years ago.

Indicating to their opponent the location of what they were looking for may have sounded strange, but it didn't matter as the winners are not those who can find the Shard but can leave with it. In that regard, it was actually better.

Also, if **Misopethamenos: Simulated Old Age** hid his presence as a Servant, it also sealed his other Noble Phantasms. To fight against both Saber of Red and Lancer of Red in that state would have been useless.

But there was a third reason why Archer prefered to guide their opponents to the Shard.

«I guess I should go back now.» He said as he turned into spirit form.

* * *

Leo and the rest had 'borrowed' a small fishing boat to get to the island. They didn't have a pilot this time but Saber could still use it thanks to his **Riding** skill. Just as Outis had told them, it didn't take long for them to find the island.

They were now only a few hundred meters from said island but…there was a little problem.

«That's...» Leo wanted to say something but he couldn't.

As they were getting closer to the island, something had come out from behind the island. It was…

«A boat.» Saber finished.

Blocking their way to the island was a huge-ass boat with a hull made out of some golden material and decorated with cobalt blue decoration. There was no sail but two big row on each side of the boat. It was actually so big it was hiding the island from their field of vision.

«This presence…Master, this boat is definitely a Noble Phantasm.» Saber commented.

«So that means there's a Servant on board, huh?» Lancer concluded. «Since it's a boat...I'd say a Rider.»

Leo looked at the boat blocking the way. Just as Lancer said, it was likely there was a Servant on this boat. Now, that didn't mean they had to fight them. He had no idea how fast this big boat was but this fishing boat piloted by Saber was probably faster. It would probably be quicker to pass by them and on the island but…

«There's a Servant on this boat…?» Leo muttured to himself.

«Let's just get around it.» Abraham suggested, although it sounded more like an order.

«What for? If they're here, we just need to kill them, right?» Hatsuyo replied.

«It's to dangerous to get on the Noble Phantasm of an oponent without knowing how many they are or what is awaiting us.»

«I agree with him on that, Master.» Lancer sided with Abraham. «Though if you order it I'm willing to go.» He said with a casual tone.

«…Fine.» Hatsuyo accepted the first-class magus' proposition, though grudgingly.

«Master?» As for Saber, who was waiting for orders to pilot the boat, he was looking at Leo, wondering what he was thinking.

Leo wasn't listening. He was just staring at the immense boat as if making a staring contest with it. He looked like he was thinking deeply about something. The two boats were now just in front of each other, wich made the boat look even bigger, and at the same time it felt like their opponents were closer as well.

«…..No.»

«Huh?» The rest of the crew looked at him, wondering what he was saying.

«Saber, you can fight, right?»

«?» Saber looked surprised for a second but answered seriously. «As soon as you order me too.»

«Wait, Argas, don't tell me you want to fight even after what I said!» Abraham shouted angrily.

«I didn't listen to what you said. Whoever is on this ship, I'm fighting them!»

«...» Hatsuyo looked at him with a strange expression. «Hey, idiot. Are you trying to play hero?»

«Because you need to be a hero to want to make them pay for what they've done?!» Leo replied angrily to the samurai girl.

Instead of answering immediatly by shouting even more like usual, Hatsuyo instead gave him a look midway between anger and disgust.

«Fine! Get on this boat if you want!» Was her reply.

Leo didn't knew what surprised him the most: her reaction or the fact she didn't profit of this opportunity to get on the boat herself just as she originally wanted. Did she hate him to the point she didn't want to fight alongside him?

«!» Lancer suddenly looked at the sky, alarmed. «Master, stand back!»

The spearman stretched his arms and a long spear with a blade which made a third of the weapon. Said blade looked like a beautifully crafted european sword blade, extremely sharp and there were dragonflies engraved on the blade.

Before Leo even had the time to realize what Lancer was doing, the latter swung his spear around numerous times as if trying to hit invisible enemies. Each time, there was the sound of something being cut down. When he stopped, they realized what he had been cutting were arrows coming in their direction!

Leo glarred at the boat.

«So they're attacking us.»

«No. These arrows definitely came from the island. Tche! Looks like it'll be better to split up after all.» Lancer stated. «Oi, kid!» He spoke to Leo. «Board on this ship. For our part, we'll take care of the asshole on the island.»

«Eh? But, how will you drive the boat without Saber?»

«If it's just crashing the boat on the island, I should do fine.» Lancer replied with an amused smile. «Now go!»

Leo nodded and looked to Saber, who nodded as well. However, what happened next wasn't in Leo's plan. Saber grabbed him and carried him princess style before jumping so high they landed on the deck of the boat, and with so much strength Leo felt like his organs were crushed. As he took a few shaky steps, he was thankful he had already puked back at Candelária or else the owner of the boat wouldn't have been pleased.

The two of them heard the sound of the boat moving in direction of the island.

«He said he would crash into the island, didn't he?» Leo said as he prayed for them to survive survived.

In any case, he had to focus all his thoughts on their enemy now. He had decided to come here and fight because he had a question for them.

«Master.»

Saber called out to Leo and looked straight in front of them. Leo hadn't noticed but their opponent was standing there and waiting for them. And it was one of the strangest person he had ever seen. It was a tall man with burgundy messy hair dressed like a roman emperor. He was gazing at them passionately and had a wide crazy smile across his face, but that wasn't the scariest: his clothes, his hands and even part of his face were covered in blood which clearly wasn't his.

«Good evening, dear lowly opponent! I am Rider of Black! Welcome on board!»

«You.» Leo pointed at the crazy-looking Servant. «You are the one who killed all these people in Candelária, aren't you?»

«Ah, that's right! You were too late to take part in the emperor's feast.»

«A feast…?» Leo gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. «You dare to call that a feast? Why did you do that?!»

«Do I need a reason? The servants only exist for the emperor's entertainement and pleasure. As such, it is the ultimate honor for them to be part of the king's dinner!»

«…Saber.»

Leo gave his silent order.

«Understood.»

The knight put himself between Rider of Black and Leo. But instead of unsheating the sword at his belt like Leo had expected, Saber reached out his hand. With a golden glittering, a new sword with a red hilt and a golden blade appeared in his hand. With a shield in the left hand and a sword in the right hand, Saber stood ready to face Rider.

When he saw that his opponent was finally ready to fight, the mad emperor spread his arms and started to laugh maniacally.

«Hehe…hahaha…Hahahahahahaha! Rejoice! Rejoice!»

* * *

 _Thank you for reading this chapter! Hey guys, boats! Lots of them!_

 _Originally a pretty boring chapter, I hope I managed to make it more interesting, though it ended up grimmier than I expected. Oh well._

 _I hoped you liked this chapter nonetheless. And next chapter, it's finally the first battle! (/OwO)/_

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	8. Chapter VII: Moonlight

**Chapter VII: Moonlight**

* * *

Leo gulped.

On one side, the mad emperor covered in blood; Rider of Black.

On the other side, the knight in shining armor; Saber of Red.

The two Servants were facing each other without moving an inch, like sprinters before the gunshot. Saber was shield and sword raised in front of Leo, acting as a wall to protect his Master from Rider's madness. The later was keeping in a boxing stance while licking his lips in anticipation.

Leo was frustrated, to say the least. He had come on this boat with the determination to fight, only to discover he wasn't able to. Michael had told him not to get wrapped up in a Servant fight, and all Leo could do was agreeing: although they hadn't started fighting yet, the tension between Saber and Rider could kill.

(Dammit…)

To be honest, Leo wasn't a fighter, let alone a killer. Magi were supposed to be aware of death but him had tried to forget all about it for a time. The horror of what happened at Candelária had felt like a punch in the stomach for him, and he had just wanted to punch the culprit hard enough to kill them. But now that he finally had him in front of him, he couldn't do shit. He was even trembling slightly.

Trembling because of the tension.

Trembling because of Rider's killing intent.

Trembling because of his own powerlessness.

Maybe it was fear or maybe it was survival instinct, Leo took a step backward. He had nowhere to run if he wanted to, but he had still taken a step backward out of instinct. Little did he know, this single action, the slight noise produced by his foot landing on the floor acted as the gunshot.

What happened next was too fast for his eyes to follow.

* * *

Both Servants shot forward with with energy like that of an explosion. Saber dashed with his shield raised in front of him as if he wanted to crush Rider, and kept his sword ready to go at any moment.

«!»

However, Rider's speed far exceeded his expectations. If Saber had charged like a bull, Rider had taken off like a rocket and approached Saber with tremendous speed!

Rider clenched his fist and swung it with enough strength to destroy a tank. But as it was a predictable move, Saber was able to raise block it with his shield in time. The force of the blow pushed him back on several meters but he managed to keep his balance.

However, Rider's wasn't done attacking and before Saber had the time to retaliate, he crossed the distance between them in two steps and delivered an onslaught of punches. If Leo had been able to see it, he would have described it as being like an attack in one of those old fighting anime.

Yet, even in this seemingly disadvantageous situation, Saber's face remained expressionless. He was analysed the situation: although numerous, Rider's punches weren't as strong as the first one. Also, it was clear Rider wasn't trying to kill him with his blows, but is just attacking him for the sake of hurting him.

Calmly, Saber countered the punches aimed at his face with his shield and let his armor take the rest. Rider's onslaught was restless, but it wasn't flawless. Patiently, though it was only for two seconds, Saber observed his opponent's movements and kept his sword ready.

…Now!

For a half-second, there was a tiny gap between Rider's attack. Saber seized this chance to swing his sword into a perfect circular arc aimed at Rider's face. The later, although focused on his fists, noticed it and was able to avoid it by a hair's breadth by leaping backward.

But Saber didn't let him escape. The knight came after the emperor and swung his swords several times, and each time the blade passed so close of Rider's body that it almost looked like it actually reached him. But each time, the mad Servant managed to evade Saber's attack with an incredible swiftness.

Seeing the knight's difficulty to hit him, Rider displayed a mocking smirk. He began to avoid Saber's blade as if he was playing a game. However, Saber didn't feel insulted by his opponent's mockery. It was unbeffiting of the holiest knight and he had expected to meet opponents far superior to him.

Not losing his cool, the knight analyzed the enemy in front of him. Although Rider had managed to surprise Saber by displaying unexpected strength, he had two big flaws. The first, of course, was his pride.

«Come on, Saber, I expected much more of you!» Rider shouted.

But just as he said that, Saber did an unexpected move: his attack had not been any different from the precedents, and had been aimed at Rider's chest. But when Rider moved aside to avoid the diagonal slash, Saber didn't stop his attack to launch another; instead, he put more strength in his arm and struck his real target: Rider's foot.

The mad emperor realized too late what happened and his rigth foot was almost cut in two. Immediatly after, Saber swung his sword and badly wounded Rider's left knee, almost knocking the later off.

«You damn little worm…!» Rider sweared as he did his best not to fall.

From wrath or from survival instinct, Rider launched a powerful punch at Saber's face. Rather than countering his strength, Saber simply sweeped Rider's arm aside with a skillful swing of his shield.

Rider's legs were neutralized, as well as his right arm at the moment, and he had lost his balance: his guard was completely open.

Saber seize this opportunity and was swung his sword horizontaly at Rider's chest to slash his heart. This time, however, it was Saber's turn to be surprised.

Before his blade could reach Rider's side, Saber felt a sudden gust of wind coming from Rider, followed by a black outburst of prana similar to lightnings. Saber was violently blown away by the unexpected explosion but managed to land on his feet.

«Kh, **Mana Burst** …?» Saber muttured as he raised his arm to protect his face of the gusts emanating fron the mad Servant.

Still standing in the black whirlwhind of mana, Rider was staring at Saber and baring his fangs like a beast. Then, for an unknown reason, he raised his head to look at the moon and reached out his hand as if to grab it., mutturing the same and uique word again and again like a madman:

«Lunalunalunalunalunalunalunalunalunalunaluna-»

«!»

As he kept doing that, a slightly bluish light started to emanate from his wounds, quickly healing them.

(Healing magecraft?) Saber wondered. (No, it was different.)

Saber raised his head to look at the moon as well. Then, he lowered his gaze to look at the boat he was standing on.

«A boat,the moon and an emperor...» Saber muttured. He then reported his attention to Rider. «Could it be…?»

Saber's thoughts were interrupted as Rider emerged from his trance. He seemed calmer than before, and the flow of mana around his had disappeared, but he was still glarring hatefully at Saber as if his stare alone could kill. But his gaze soon shifted to look at Leo, who was still standing where Saber had left him, dumbfounded.

The mad emperor raised his clenched fist in front of him, and opened it to reveal a simple rock. He then clenched his fist and, as a sinister smile appeared on his face, the magical energy of his Mana Burst dwelled in the rock.

«?!» For the first time since he had been summoned, Saber's calm expression was replaced by a frown. Upon understanding what Rider was about to do, he immediatly turned around to shout: «Master, get away!»

«Huh?»

But the dumbfounded Leo didn't even have the time to process what was going on, and by the time he understood Rider had already attacked. The rock enhanced by Rider's prana flew toward Leo with the speed of an arrowed and the power of a wrecking ball.

Saber didn't have time to hesitate.

Putting all of his strength into his legs, he dashed toward Leo in order to intercept the magical bullet.

(Kh, I won't be able to take it down!)

The rock, although originally not an actual magic weapon, was powered to the point even Saber's speed couldn't rivalize with it.

In that case, the only choice was…

«Haaaaaaaaaa!» Saber roared.

Putting his strength at the utmost limit and even beyond, Saber dematerialized his sword and shield to get rid of the weight and opened his arms wide.

Before the rock could reach his Master, Saber grabbed Leo with both hands and frantically lept upward. Not quickly enough though. Saber gritted his teeth as he felt the projectile torn his armor open and burn his back.

He didn't have the time to complain though, nor the will to do so. He had to get his Master somewhere Rider couldn't reach him or else-

«Where are you looking?»

«!»

Saber heard Rider's voice right next to him and turned his head to see Rider had immediatly caught up with them by propelling himself with the Mana Burst. Surrounded by the black energy, the mad Servant brought his fist together and swung them down with tremendous strength. Saber just had the time to materialize his shield to protect them both and was sent flying through the air.

In the middle of the giant ship was a temple made of a blue stone shining in the moonlight. Saber was blown away so far he landed on its roof. Despite the sudden and brutal attack, he managed to land on his feet.

Leo finally seemed to realize the situation.

«Saber! Are you okay?! Gh-!»

But Saber didn't have the time to answer. As soon as Rider landed on the ground, he dashed over the temple and jumped to land in front of them. Even before landing, he had clenched his left fist and swung it down as if to smash them to the ground.

But Saber had anticipated it. If Rider was powerful, on the other hand he was predictable. Immediatly after landing, Saber had let go of Leo.

«Saber?»

«Hang in there for a second, Master.» Just as he said that, Saber materialized his golden sword again.

When Rider caught up with them and swung his arm, Saber swung his sword as well to block. Without surprise, the golden blade sliced through Rider's hand easily and the latter let out a cry of pain and anger.

«Ghrg! Damn you!»

Rider had two big flaws. The first was his pride which had allowed Saber to get close and trick him easily. The second was that, unlike Saber, he was unarmed. Because of that, if the two were to clash, Saber would have an important advantage. However...

Having taking the initiative again, Saber swung his arm verticaly to cut Rider's head in two.

«Don't take me lightly!» Rider roared.

Indeed, although one of his hands had been severely wounded, Rider caught Saber's sword like in those samurai movie. The difference here was that it wasn't a katana but an eupean sword wielded by a master of the sword.

Because Rider was unarmed, if the two of them were to clash, Saber would have an important advantage. However, Rider was so strong he even covered that weakness.

«Shit! That hurt, you worm! I'll boil you alive- Huh?»

But Saber already knew that. He hadn't expected his sword to reach Rider, so when the later blocked his attack, Saber instantly let go of his sword and turned his back to Rider. Taking advantage of Rider's surprise, Saber grabbed Leo in his arms again and sped up in direction of the end of the boat. He had abandoned his sword in the hand of Rider, but he felt no shame if it was to protect his Master.

In a couple of seconds, he had already gotten down the temple's roof and was heading in direction of the sea.

It was clear by now that there was no safe place for Leo on this boat, so the best they could do for now was retreating.

«!»

But Saber's ear twitched when he heard something aproaching at great speed. He frantically jumped sideways to dodge another rock thrown by Rider. While the projectile exploded only a few meters away from them, Saber turned his head to look at Rider. The later hadn't gotten down the temple to chase after them but he was raising his hands, ready to throw other rocks.

Saber kept running forward as he heard the projectiles raining on them. The next moment, the deck was covered on black explosions.

«Kh!»

Saber slalomed between them without too much difficulty, but he was fearing for his Master. Thankfully, as the boat was a Noble Phantasm, it wasn't damaged so easily and no shrapnel flew in their direction.

They were now only a few meters away from the edge of the ship. The fishing boat they had 'borrowed' to come here was long gone but it shouldn't be a problem, hopefully.

Saber was stepping on the handrail and was about to jump, when he suddenly heard a bigger explosion behind them.

With the help of his Mana Burst, Rider had closed the distance between them in a few steps and was now standing right beside them, ready to hit.

(No!)

It was bad.

Right now, Saber's guard was completely open and Rider could easily reach Leo. But to his surprise, Rider didn't throw a punch: instead, he simply grabbed Saber who had already started his jump and threw him back violently on the boat.

This time, Saber couldn't land on his feet, and bounced over thirty meters before coming to a stop. The power of Rider's throw made Leo fall out of Saber's arms and the two of them ended up a few meters apart from each other.

«Saber!» Ignoring the intense pain in his entire body, Leo immediatly got up to rush over Saber's side. «Are you okay, Saber?!»

«Don't worry, Master.» But Saber got up as well as if he was unscathed. «I'm fine.»

«What do you mean, 'fine'! Your back is-»

«It's nothing. My armor absorbed most of the damage.» Saber stopped talking to look at Rider. The latter hadn't moved from where he had thrown them and was now toying with Saber's sword. «Master, can you heal my wounds?»

«Ha? Ah, sure!» Leo complied.

Healing magecraft was one of the rare thaumaturgy Leo had actually been willing to learn, so he was more than a little proficient in it. Soon, Saber's back was back to normal and the destroyed part of his armor reappeared as if it repaired itself.

«Thank you, Master.» Saber refocused his attention of Rider who was done waving the golden sword around. He pushed Leo behind him and put himself between his Master and Rider of Black. «Let's finish our fight, Rider.»

«Saber, you're in no condition to fight!» Leo protested.

But Saber payed him no heed.

«I already told you not to worry, Master. I can still fight.»

«But...» Leo wanted to reply, but it looked like nothing could dissuade Saber at this point.

«Beside.» Saber added as he turned his head around to look at Leo. «I have no intention in dying here.»

He had said that with the same blank expression and plain voice, but Leo could read his determination in his eyes. But it didn't make Leo worry any less. He could feel Saber had taken more damages than he admitted, and the situation was clearly unfavorable to him: now that Rider had taken his sword away from him, Saber only had his shield left to fight.

Nonetheless, the knight stood bravely as an ultimate wall between him the monster Rider was.

«Now, now. It's not nice to try to leave like that, and now you're ignoring me?» Rider said with a sardonic smile on his face.

Then, to Saber's and Leo's surprise, Rider threw the golden sword back at Saber who, despite his surprise, caught it skillfully by the handle.

«What are you playing at, Rider?»

«What?» Rider mockingly put his hand behind his ear as if he didn't hear Saber's question. «Are you saying you can defeat me without your little stick? Preposterous! I'll make you the honor to kill you myself, so at least put up a fight! Beside, this god doesn't need a weapon.» Rider spread his arms. «In this arena dedicated to the moon, I am the favorite!»

«An arena dedicated to the moon?» Saber muttured. «I see… It confirm my guess. Threre's only one emperor owning such a temple.»

«About time, Saber! Now you realize my greatness!»

«So as I thought, this incredible power you have come from this boat, emperor Caligula.»

«Indeed. As long as my **Diana Nemorensis** is bathed in moonlight, I'll be the favorite of the moon! Now what will you do, Saber? Use your Noble Phantasm?»

Leo tilted.

Because of the sudden sequence of events, he had almost forgotten about it, but Saber too had a Noble Phantasm, and a strong one at that.

«He's right, Saber, use your Noble Phantasm!»

«Are you sure, Master?» Saber hesitated.

Now that Rider had given him his sword back, he could use the Noble Phantasm concealed in it, but it would also mean revealing his identity.

«Now is not the time for hesitation.» Leo nodded. «We can't simply wait until the sun rise to beat him. Also...» Leo looked at the island in front of them. They didn't hear it because of the clashing but he could see a pillar of smoke rising from the shore. Lancer did say he would crash the boat, right? «I'm worried for the rest of the group. Let's finish this quickly!»

Saber nodded.

He had probably understood as well by now that their opponents had been waiting for them. Leo didn't worry for Hatsuyo. If she couldn't die of shame, she couldn't die at all. Still, he had a bad feeling.

Obeying his order, Saber slowly and gracefully rose the sword above his head with both hand.

* * *

On the nameless island, Linandir Eïchtobell was panting heavily.

Most of the island was covered on a thick forest, at the exception of a big hill in the middle. Said hill didn't seem natural, as it was completely black and without any vegetation on it.

Right now, Linandir was standing in the part of the forest which was boarding the coast, so that he could see Rider's ship from afar.

«Dammit. That idiot is pumping too much...» Linandir muttured between two pantings.

Rider wasn't a high rank Servant who consumed a lot of prana to keep a physical form, and his Noble Phantasm only costed prana to summon it. Because of that, Linandir had expected him not to be to much of a bother during fights.

«What a joke! Caligula isn't supposed to have something like Mana Burst.»

Indeed, Rider originally couldn't use such a skill or even fight so well with his fists. But it wasn't another effect of Diana Nemorensis. It was due to another skill of Rider, called **Imperial Privilege** which allowed him to use skills he never had during life.

In other words, if he couldn't use them he could pretend to.

«As if your Noble Phantasm wasn't enough… Anyway, if you go to far I'll have to cut the connection.»

When he had learned Rider's true identity, Linandir really hadn't expected much from him, especially after failing to summon Alexander the Great. But to his surprise, Diana Nemorensis was quite a powerful support. The conditions to use its full potential made it hard to use, and even harder was to make sure the opponent got on board and didn't leave the ship.

However, as long as he stayed on this Noble Phantasm of his, the weak Rider could acquire immense power. Moreover, as he was blessed by the moon, the later would even heal him and supply him with a little mana.

Finally, it had a last power which could prove very useful against opponents from the Age of Gods.

«And despite that you still feel the need to take in my own reserves. Talk about a great emperor!» Linandir sighed.

But he couldn't do anything about that as Rider would only do as he please, so instead of complaining to the wind any longer he leaned against a tree and sat on the ground.

He looked at the full moon.

He sighed again.

Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, or Caligula.

The second emperor of the Roman Empire, Tiberius, was feared by the people of all the empire for his cruelty and the numerous executions carried out during his reign. It was even said he held execution as a stimulus to his fury. In this way, countless of prisoners, of every age and sex, were killed on a whim. He died at the age of seventy-eighty, killed by the Praetor Macro on order of Tiberius' grand-nephew Caligula.

Caligula was greatly hailed by the Roman people, and everyone expected this new emperor to bring peace throughout the empire.

But not only did Caligula prove to be even more cruel than his predecessor, but he was also drowned in depravity. His reign was a rule of terror and madness which made even Tiberius' rule soft in comparison, to the point he was himself eventually assassinated by the Praetorian Guard.

And thus died the third emperor of the great Roman Empire, Caligula.

That was the story everyone knew and that was recorded in history.

But, by watching Rider's live through his dream and by being alongside him, Linandir had come to understand his Servant better. However, because he understood him didn't mean he sympathized with him.

What was said on Caligula was all true, and Linandir even beholded horors that remained unknown to historians even today.

However, there was one fact he couldn't ignore.

Every time Rider would perpetrate his atrocities, he would look up to the moon and would ask: _'Is this enough?'_

Kill for the Moon.

Torture for the Moon.

Conquer for the moon

Just like a courtier covering his loved one in gifts to get her favors, the mad emperor, Caligula, would give everything he had to the Moon, even his own sanity.

In the end, was it really that different from Linandir's case?

Was the man who fell in love by watching the sun rise any different from the man who fell head over heels for the moon?

«…»

Linandir gritted his teeth and slammed his fist into the tree he was leaning against. He hit it with so much strength that a warm liquide was trickling from his fist, but the pain from his clenched jaws must have been far greater because he didn't feel it.

«As if that was possible, don't laugh at me!» Linandir shouted but there was no one to hear him. «How could wanting the warm love of the sun and seeking the cold affection of the moon be the same! I am not like this monster of a man!»

He took a pause for breathing as he realized he was still panting, though not because of the prana drain now.

Taking his eyes off the full moon staring at him like a giant eye, Linandir turned his gaze over the horizon beyond Diana Nemorensis.

There, in a few hours, the sun will rise again, and he will be able to contemplate the miracle once again.

«Adrianne.» He muttured in his breath. «I've come so far now, so why am I doubting of my resolve now? I feel like simply staying beside Rider is driving me crazy...»

Surprisingly, his thoughts then moved to someone he didn't expect to think of now.

«This Ewald Wachhund guy…»

What about him?

Was the rumor about him true?

What could someone who couldn't feel love fight for?

Money? Power?

Linandir couldn't imagine fighting to get such meaningless things now. Five years ago, it might have sounded a lot more realistic.

And thus, Linandir ended up both hating and pitying that man who couldn't feel love, as if it was a pain he had known long ago.

«…-!»

But Linandir's thoughts were brutally cut off by a loud noise coming from the shore of the further away on the shore. There, he saw a column of smoke rising in the air and, after finding a better point of view, he saw a fishing boat crashed into the island, and three persons, two men and one teenage girl, coming out of it.

(I had almost forgotten about them.) Linandir sighed in his head.

Elena Bujart and Archer had told him that their opponents would be coming over to the island, and asked him to interceipt them with Rider. However, they also asked him to let them pass through as long as either Saber or Lancer stayed to fight against Rider. It was true that it would have been hard for Rider to fight to Servants at once, even powered by Diana Nemorensis, but Linandir couldn't help having a weird feeling about that request.

The group which came out of the boat was now about to progress further into the island. Yet, Linandir wouldn't try to stop them. It was foolish of him to think he could go against a Servant, but even if Lancer wasn't here, i would be difficult for Linandir to fight prroperly with Rider thoughtlessly pumping prana from him.

That was why, until Rider was done killing Saber, Linandir would stay up here.

«But once I find one of them alone.» Linandir's voice lost all compassion. «I will kill them.»

* * *

On the shore of the island, Abraham, Hatsuyo and Lancer of Red were walking away from the fuming boat. Lancer wasn't joking when he had said he would crash the boat; He didn't have Saber's **Riding** skill, and none of them actually had a thought for the poor owner of the boat.

 _'They're probably already dead anyway.'_ was what Hatsuyo had said.

Looking around them, they noticed the island was actually bigger than what you would expect from an island which wasn't recorded on any map. Most of it was covered on trees taller than a house, and the only noticeable feature was the black hill right in the middle. The latter was rather strange for a natural hill: first of all, it was all black; not a single clump of grass could be seen on it, and the trees were rarer around it as well. Also, it's shape itself was weird; the top was rather plain but the hillside was so steep it looked less like a hill and more like a cliff. From afar, the hill looked like a black obelisk erected in the middle of the island.

«Volcanic activity?» Abraham muttured to himself.

«Oi, old geezer, the enemy can see us so don't just look around like a tourist if you don't want another hole on your face.» Hatsuyo barked.

Abraham's face twitched and a vein popped up on his temple, but he didn't reply. He had noticed by now that the samurai girl had a talent to upset people around her with her mere comments.

Abraham's pockmarked face was the mark of a shame, a punishment for failing an experiment. It couldn't heal and Abraham wasn't enough of a coward to go as far as hiding his face from everyone. Thus, he was now used to comments about it. However, being reminded of it by a mindless kid pretending to be a magus while she couldn't even cast proper magecraft and was reduced to wave a sword around.

(I shouldn't have expected anything from an Asian so-called magus to start with.) He thought bitterly.

Really, the only reason why she was regarded as important was because she was a Master. It was a miracle that the Grail even chose her.

But Hatsuyo's prediction came true when, with a whistling noise, an arrow flew from the woods toward Abraham's head so fat no one could see it. The first rank magus was only saved by Lancer who, as the arrow was less than a meter away from Abraham's face, waved his spear around as if to chase a bug away and cut the arrow in two.

«Looks like our opponent is getting impatient.» The spearman said with a smirk. «How about we go meet them, Master?»

«Sure, let's go.»

«It is clear that they want to lure you in the forest. Why would you give them this advantage?» Abraham bitterly commented, not having blinked after the sudden attack.

«Huh? I just have to find the enemy and kill them so why choose the hard way?» Hatsuyo replied as if it was obvious.

«She's right, it doesn't matter!» Lancer said cheerfully. «If it's for my Master, a plain or the pit of hell are no different; I'll beat them.»

Lancer then turned his gaze over the woods in front of them. There was no way of guessing where this arrow had been fired from and yet, when Lancer turned around again to look at Hatsuyo, he said:

«Can you follow?»

«Can I?»

And with that, Lancer shot toward the trees and disappeared in the blink of an eye. There was no way a human run after a Servant as these monsters among men could run faster than a plane. And yet, as soon as Lancer started running, Hatsuyo followed closely behind him without the least problem, and the two disappeared together in the vegetation.

«I see. Caster's armor is enabling us to perform such a feat.» Abraham noted. But the one he was praising was the Caster of Red, not Hatsuyo. «Hm, they can do whatever they want. My role isn't to tag along.»

Abraham simply walked in direction of the forest as if taking a walk. As he expected, no more arrow flew in his direction; the enemy Servant -probably Archer of black- was busy with Lancer. Abraham wasn't expected to fight against Servants, so of course he had other plans in mind.

«Now, shall I look for these idiots from New Edge?»

* * *

Lancer was running nimbly between the trees, closely followed by his Master. He had to say, Caster of Red was really impressive to create an armor like Hatsuyo's. The latter simply had to put mana into it to be able to follow a Servant effortlessly -although it was also true that Lancer . No blacksmith during his time would have been able to do the same.

«Lancer, can you pinpoint their position?» Hatsuyo asked.

«Not if they move around too much. Feeling the presence of a Servant near-by is a thing, finding their exact position during a fight is another.»

Archer of Black had probably lured Lancer and Hatsuyo inside the wood to take advantage of the cover of the tree to shoot them from afar without being seen. Despite that, Lancer was confident that he could find them and kill them as his Master asked him.

Suddenly, Lancer's ear twitched and the spear man immediatly swung his spear horizontally from left to right to cut the arrow aimed at his chest.

«That bastard, not even showing their face before trying to kill me.» Lancer said that but the wide grin on his face displayed his enthusiasm. «I guess it's more interesting that way!»

Lancer turned around and headed toward where the arrowed had been shot from. Less than a second after, another arrow came from behind to pierce Lancer's neck. It had been carefully shot from his blind spot, yet Lancer once again swung his spear as soon as the projectile was withing his range without hesitation.

Once again, Lancer changed his direction to where the arrowed had been fired from, and kept a speed that Hatsuyo could follow. The latter was bewitched by the way Lancer countered the arrows; a simple, swift swing without any useless movement. Lancer didn't even need to turn his head around to see the arrows. He could simply feel them coming his way as soon as they were shot; in fact, if the bowman was withing his vision field, he could probably trace the arrow's trajectory before it was even fired.

It was a skill which combined both instinct and experience, the sixth sens of a warrior who went through countless battles.

This little game of tag kept on for a while. Each time Lancer headed toward a new location, Archer would fire an arrow from another. When said arrow reached Lancer's range, it was immediatly cut in two and he would look for its origine.

However, at one point…

«Stop here, Master!» Lancer said as he stopped moving forward and raised his arms like a cross.

«What is it?!»

Hatsuyo frantically stopped as well just behind Lancer and looked around in search for the enmy or something that would have make Lancer stop.

But there was nothing, not even an arrow flying in their direction.

«This isn't possible anymore, Master.» Lancer looked at her with a sorry look. «Sorry, but I'll have to ask you to find somewhere to hide while I take care of it. I can't possibly catch up with them if I have to adjust my speed to yours.»

Even if the black armor made by Caster enabled Hatsuyo to match the speed of an average Servant, it wouldn't be of any help in those woods where they couldn't see their opponent, and as Lancer was waiting for her, he couldn't make use of his full speed.

Hatsuyo squeezed her fist tightly but nodded and turned around to go find a safe place.

«You better kill them quickly or I'll be angry!» She shouted without looking back.

«Aye, aye.» Lancer acquiesced. «Now that the young miss isn't around, let's play some more, don't you agree?» Lancer asked though Archer probably couldn't hear him.

He didn't move from where he stood and simply waited with a huge grin.

* * *

Archer watched Hatsuyo leaving without a word. He could have killed her instantly with a simple arrow, but he didn't. First, because he was wondering about the strange black armor covering the young girl's body. Second, because the real danger was ready to move at any moment.

Lancer hadn't moved since his Master left, as if he was inviting Archer to make the first move.

(So be it.) Archer decided as he pulled the string of his bow.

The previous shots, although fatal, had only been to test Lancer's ability. This time, Archer realeased a dozen of arrows stronger than the previous in Lancer's direction.

As soon as the arrows were fired, Lancer frantically turned his head in Archer's direction with a carnivorous smile. Before the deadly projectiles could make half the distance between the two Servants, Lancer held his spear head-on and shot toward Archer with a tremendous speed befitting of the Lancer class. His charge was so powerful Lancer had become a huge arrow himself. Any tree, any leaf and any arrow on his way was utterly cleaved away.

Archer jumped to the side before this arrow of death could reach him, and the tree behind him was destroyed. Lancer descelerated but didn't stop moving. Now that he had spotted Archer, he seemed determinated not to let him go.

When the spearman pounded on him, Archer, rather than backing away, took out his hunting knife and sped up to Lancer as well. Lancer thrusted his spear to pierce through Archer's skull; Archer raised his knife to counter and deviate the attack. However, as soon as the hunting knife touched the spear's blade, it was neatly cut in two without any resistance and Lancer's spear grazed Archer cheek. The later, although surprised, moved immediatly to escape Lancer's attack range.

Archer lept backward to bounce against a tree trunk and jumped from trunk to trunk while also firing a volley of arrow at Lancer. The latter sliced the arrows without even looking at them, keeping his eyes set on Archer like a beast with its prey. Archer reached a treetop and proceeded to jump from tree to tree. Looking back, he saw that Lancer wasn't following him anymore.

(Where is he?-!) Archer looked around in search for the spearman clothed in black, and finally spotted him on the ground below.

Lancer of Red was matching Archer's pace and was putting on a taunting smirk as if saying: ' _Come on, is that all you can do?_ '.

Not modifying his pace nor changing of route, Archer showered Lancer in arrows. Just like previously, Lancer didn't seem to have any problem seeing Archer's arrows coming. Not even bothering to dodge, he intercepted each one of them. Though this little game only lasted for thirty or so seconds, to fighters like them it could mean an eternity. At some point, Lancer put his hand in front of his face to yawn, still waving his spear around with the other, and gave Archer a bored look.

The next instant, he vanished, only leaving the ground where he was standing half a second ago broken.

Archer fratically looked around with his piercing eyes to find him, only to spot him at the most unexpected place.

«!»

In front of him.

Lancer had simply jumped on a tree ahead of Archer so fast the latter hadn't been able to follow him. By the time Archer realized that, he had already jumped on the tree Lancer was waiting on. He just had the time to duck as a Lancer's spear sliced the air like a guillotine, and tried to pass by his opponent.

However, as if Lancer had expected his attack to miss, he spinned around and delivered a powerful kick at Archer who, taken by surprise, parried and was sent flying. Lancer quickly followed and readied his spear to impale him. Archer readied his bow as well, and fired three arrows at Lancer with great precision so the later had no choice but to take care of them. Archer had already understood by now that wounding the spearman with mere arrows was impossible, but thanks to this action he could land on the ground before Lancer could attack him.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, Archer raced through the forest to put distance between Lancer and him. The Servant of Red had an obvious advantage when it came to close-range fighting, do the best Archer could do right now was to lose him.

«Where do you think you're going?!» Archer heard a cry resounding through the woods on his right.

There, as if a mad lumberjack was running in his direction, trees were collapsing one after another with a loud noise. Archer pulled the string of his bow, ready to shoot a salvo, when the deforestation suddenly stopped.

«Oi, where are you looking?» A voice right left to Archer asked.

Without even looking in the voice's direction, Archer nimbly lept backward and dodged the rotating spear's tip by a hair's breadth. But Lancer had probably expected that reaction: Archer barely had the time to land that the spearman dashed over him and thrusted his spear at Archer's chest.

(I won't be able to dodge it…!)

This attack was admirable, combining both too much speed for Archer to avoid and enough strength go through any protection. Seen how sharp the spear's blade seemed too be, Archer's armor would make little difference anyway. As such, there was only one thing to do.

Archer vanished.

It wasn't like Lancer a minute ago; when Archer disappeared, a strange blue mist surrounded him as if he had turned himself into mist.

Lancer stopped him movement and looked at the sky.

«Tch.» He clicked his tongue. «Spirit form, huh? Do you think that'll be enough to escape me, Archer?»

* * *

Although it had hardly lasted more than two minutes, the fight between Archer and Lancer had them moving around a lot, and they had ended up a couple hundred meters away from the black cliff. That's where Archer reappeared in the same blue mist.

«I shouldn't have underestimated him. If my son heard that I was taken off guard, I wonder what kind of face he would make.» Archer calmly lamented in a sigh.

There were all kinds of Heroic Spirits, from warriors to writers and even nurses. However, there were two dinstinct types: those who were gifted from birth with a special blood or were given an unparalleled power, and those who achieved timelessness though sheer skill and experience. Although Archer still hadn't guessed the asian spearman's identity, his instinct was telling him Lancer belonged to the latter.

«Honestly, I was supposed to save time but I end up running away...» Archer searched for his Master through their connection.

 _Master, are you done yet?_

 _No, I've encountered an unplanned rat._

«I see. Then I have no choice but to hang on I guess.» Archer sighed.

Using his eyes able to spot a fly a mile away, Archer scanned the forest below him. Thanks to the height of the cliff, he easily found what he was looking for. Down below the sea of leaves, a shadow was moving in his direction. It was Lancer of Red.

«You're clever to find me so quickly. However, I can't have you catch me so easily.»

As he said that, Archer stringed his bow, ready to release a rain of arrows on Lancer. This time, however, something was different.

It was wind.

Archer was surrounded by a small whirlwind as if he was being swallowed by a swarm of thousands of butterflies. Yet, this wind didn't wrap Archer up for long, and seemed to surround Archer's arrows this time, as if it was being infused in them.

When Archer finally fired, the result was far greater than before: the wind concealed into the arrows caused them to become like raging tornadoes hacking down everything on their way. The forest was filled with dust and falling trees, and Lancer disappeared among the mess and the dust. Range wise, this attack was comparable to an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm, though it wasn't even close to the real destruction created by this kind of Noble Phantasms.

«Now, this can't have done you in, right?»

Archer was right. As though he had never stopped in his charge, Lancer emerged from the cloud of dust completely unharmed. When he arrived in front of the cliff, instead of jumping, he literally ran against the wall as if ignoring the laws of physics. Archer fired another tornado-like arrow down the cliff, but Lancer once again kicked off the ground (?) and disappeared from Archer's sight. Yet, the latter had anticipated it and was able to follow Lancer with his eyes.

Archer spinned around and aimed where the spearman was most likely to appear from. He released his arrow as soon as Lancer's figure jumped from behind the cliff. But unlike before, instead of dodging it Lancer sung his spear vertically and the arrow was cut lengthwise, as if he had cut the wind as well.

After that, the two came to a stop.

On the ground below, the trees had stopped falling.

Archer and Lancer stared at each other, one with a composed yet serious expression and the other with a playful smile. Then, the silence was broken by Lancer, who rested his spear against his shoulder and clapped his hand cheerfully.

«Congratulation for lasting this long! Seriously, you're the first one to hold up against me like that. I guess it really was worth it to take part in this war!»

«I must congratulate you as well. You truly are a warrior among warriors.»

«Trying to boost my ego?» Lancer said jokingly. «It remind me of what someone said about me once though. So,» Lancer grabbed his spear with both hands. «Do you have any other trick up your sleeve or can I finish this fight now?»

«Hmph! It's true that for someone like you who just cut down every obstacle on his way, it must only look like tricks. However, I'll have you know that tricks can be as fatal as any weapon.» Archer seriously claimed. «For exemple-» He looked at the forest on his right. «With my eyes, how long do you think it would take to find your Master and kill her with an arrow?»

«...»

As soon as Archer said that, the atmosphere around Lancer changed.

«...Oi. If even try to lay a finger on her...» Lancer muttured in a coarse voice. «…I will destroy both of you, your arrow and you!» Lancer's angry shout resounded powerfully through the air like a monster's roar.

The plafull smile and jocking expression had disappeared of Lancer's face, giving way to a grimace of rage and a crushing glare. The carefree feeling surrounding the spearman turned into an intense killing intent and every muscle of his body was ready to move.

Truly a demon of the battlefield, Archer thought. He could understand how his opponents must have felt upon encountering him. However, the bowman was unfazed. He had already seen many dangers far more intimidating during the trials forced upon his by the gods.

«How loyal from you. Well, I'm not ready to take this bet, I'll admit.»

Upon hearing that, Lancer relaxed, switching back to his more bragger self.

«Ha? Was that all it too, to make you tremble, Archer? I guess I must be terrifying then. Haha!»

«Indeed.» Archer calmly replied, in contrast to Lancer's taunting tone. «However, there is one thing annoying me, Lancer. It seems my arrows are useless against you.»

«They might as well be fly!»

«That will not do. My pride as a bowman won't allow it. Let's see, if you'll be able to counter my next arrow then!»

This time, Archer's voice had been more serious than previously. Lancer must have understood it, since his smile faded away and that he took a serious fighting stance as well, which he hadn't done before.

Archer held out his hand and a single arrow appeared in it. Visually, it wasn't any different from the previous arrows Archer had used. When he pulled it on the string of his bow, however, the arrow turned pitch black and its tip turned into a drill. A great amount of prana was flowing inside it, announcing the use of a Noble Phantasm, and a blinding bluish light emanated from the black arrow.

A second which felt like an eternity passed by.

« **Telemachus: Arrow of the Twelve A** **x** **eheads**!»

Archer released the string, and his Noble Phantasm shot in a straight line like a shooting star. At the exact same moment, Lancer shot forward as well. This arrow wasn't comparable with the previous, both in power and in speed, to a point where even Lancer didn't have the time to trace its trajectory. However, there was one thing Archer didn't know. The Lancer of Red was so used to be the target of all bowmen on the battlefield that he could predict the direction of the shot before it was even fired.

He didn't need have to accept Archer's challenge and try to take the shining arrow down. All he had to do was to avoid the arrow's path and to directly attack Archer. That's what he planned to do as he dashed toward the bowman with his spear ready to cut Archer's throat. However, something he hadn't thought possible happened.

At the moment the arrow and Lancer passed next to each other, the former suddenly made a 90 degrees turn to pound on Lancer. Fortunately, his body reacted before his mind and jumped backward higher than a house. But it didn't change anything as the arrow changed its course two times again to follow its prey in the air. This time Lancer had no choice but to confront it. Holding his spear with his two hands, Lancer powerfully thrusted it forward.

«Huoooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaa!»

The blade of the spear and the tip of the arrow met, producing a great shockwave. Lancer's attack hadn't been able to cut down the projectile. This arrow wasn't meant to kill the opponent with destructive power but to pierce through any obstacle on its way. As he was in the air he didn't have any foothold. As a result, Archer silently watched Lancer rise in the sky with the speed of a missile. It was obvious who had the upper hand in this test of strength. Yet, Archer didn't claim victory.

«...»

From afar, Archer saw Lancer's lips move without hearing what he was saying. The next instant, there was a blinding green light and Archer's Noble Phantasm disappeared, cut to pieces.

When Lancer landed nimbly on the ground, he was panting and had two light injuries: one on his arm where the cloth had been torn, and one on his cheek. However, it didn't make Lancer look any weaker than before, for his face was beaming.

«Now you've gone and done it, you bastard. It's the first time someone was able to put a scratch on me! Now, you better live up to my expectations!»

Archer sighed.

He hadn't expected Telemachus to kill Archer. His Noble Phantasm was an arrow that could change its course eleven times in order to kill twelve opponents, but it had been obvious to him that this alone wasn't enough. Now, all he had managed to do was to excite Lancer even more.

«By the gods, I hope it won't take too long.» Archer sweared as he readied his next arrow.

* * *

Archer of Black's Master -Elena Bujart was walking quietly through the forest, far from the fight between her Archer and Lancer of Red.

«Mm.» She was looking around with an expression which looked widway between serious and bored.

It was the face she usually had, making one wonder about her nickname as a magus -'The Burning Lady of the Clock Tower', although it was probably wrong to say that now that she had joined New Edge. However, they stopped wondering once she gets mad.

All that could be heard in the night was the noise from Archer and Lancer's fight. Aside from that, the island was surprisingly silent for a battlefield. It was as if everyone had stopped breathing.

Elena's ear twitched.

She heard a new noise, a subtle buzzing sound resounding not far from her. From the sound of it, it was a mosquito. It wasn't that surprising considering the Azores were still fairly warm even though it was winter. Elena kept walking as though she hadn't noticed it.

The mosquito followed her with its annoying noise and kept making turns around her, as if it was deciding which part it should bite in. Finally, it approached from her neck like a hawk on its prey.

« _Kochfortschritt_.»

In an instant, a flame erupted from Elena's earring and calcinated the mosquito; not just the mosquito actually -the flame surrounded Elena's body like an armor. When the fire died, the silence came back; the sound of combat in the background had ceased too it seemed. The only difference was that Elena had stopped walking and was looking at her surrounding.

«If you'd rather I burn down the whole forest to find you, you can stay hidden.»

«...How did you know?» A male voice came from behind a tree.

A few steps could be heard and a man in his thirties with salt and pepper hair and his face pockmarked emerged from the luxuriant vegetation.

«Are you retarded or can't you hear the destruction caused by the Servants?» Elena snarled. «This is a battlefield, a place where a single mistake can mean the difference between life and death. In such a place, anything which get near me carelessly is dead!»

«Such frightening words.» The man replied in a sardonic voice. «However, since you are aware this is a place of death, you must understand the reason why I am here.»

The ambiance, which was already pretty tense, worsened and a strange feeling rose in the air, as if the bell of a church had been ringing in the distance, signaling the beggining of a tragedy.

Sparks flew around Elena's hand.

«You probably don't know who I am, but-»

«Abraham Viniloa, the Enforcer.» Elena interrupted. «I hadn't expected someone with such a reputation to have any role in the Holy Grail War.»

«Ho? I'm honored you think of me as someone with a reputation, 'Burning Lady'.»

«Shut up!» Elena gritted her teeth. «You have the reputation of a rat who will use any underhand method to kill his target!»

«...I see. Surely, coming from a reknowned magus like you, it has a meaning. However, may I ask? Why this reknowned magus would betray the Mage's Association to join an idealistic group like New Edge.»

Elena plunged her hand into her coat and took out three weird cross-shaped jewels. Abraham was making unseen preparations as well. All their discussion was nothing but an idle talk from the beggining. It was unlikely that Abraham even cared about Elena's reason, and the latter had no interest into answering him. Their words were but a vain politeness to sugarcoat the fact they were about to kill each other like animals.

«Why? I'm just doing my duty as a magus, mind you.»

«That is to say?»

«The first objective of magi is to experiment and to pass down their knowledge to the next generation. If we follow this idea, a magus first need to continue its bloodline.»

«...So the rumor was true? The one called 'The Burning Lady' has a soft side too, it appears.» Abraham laughed tauntingly.

«Shut up.» A vein popped up on Elena's temple as she tightened her grip on the cross-shaped jewels. «I was in need of the Grail and New Edge was the first one to hold out their hand to me and propose me an excellent catalyst. Too bad!»

As she pronounced the last words, Elena threw the jewels like they were knife.

« _Leuchtkäfer!_ »

Midway during their course, the jewels glowed with a strong red light and turned into spears made of fire over 3000 degree Celsius.

Abraham duked to dodge the attack and swung his arm. A knife the size of an Azoth sword attached to a chain shot from his sleeve like a bolt of a crossbow. But Elena didn't show any surprise and simply stepped aside and retrieved more cross-shaped jewels from her mantle.

Unlike the battle between Archer and Lancer where the fighters tested each other's strength, in this fight both of them already knew its opponent's power and range of attacks.

« _Leuchtkäfer!_ »

Abraham circled around Elena while repeatidly attacking her with his knife. Elena's flame spears were so hot anything would melt in a radius of one meter; because of that, Abraham was more focused on dodging them and only threw his knife to try to open a gap in Elena's guard.

Eventually, the woman magus took out a different jewel the size of a playing card and threw it in the air above Abraham. The latter took this opportunity to throw his dagger in a straight line aimed at Elena's neck. Yet, his reaction had been too slow.

« _Verbrenne alles auf deinem Vorübergehen,_ _Blutregen!_ »

The jewels Elena had thrown burst open and a red magic circle appeared in the sky above Abraham. The magic circle glowed a blinding red light and spat out a deluge of fire which scorched the trees and earth. The chain attached to the dagger melted and the projectile missed its target.

Elena watched the result of her magecraft with disdain. Had Abraham tried to flee instead of jumping on the occasion to attack her, he might have been able to survive the torrent of flames. But it was too late now, the Enforcer was probably carbonized to the point he wasn't reconizable as a human being.

«That's what rats get for playing with fire.» Elena had said this like she had pronounced a sentence of death before walking away from the disaster.

However, she had barely made three steps that she felt a high quantity of magical energy being concentrated behind her.

« _Gandr!_ »

A black orb the size of a bowling ball shot from the smoke. Elena frantically jumped to the side to avoid it. The Gandr flew past her and blasted a tree away.

«That was a Gandr? It was even more powerful than a Finn Shot!»

«And yet you managed to dodge it. What a shame.» Abraham stepped out of the scorched ground completely unharmed. No; not exactly unharmed; his clothes were mostly burned except for his right sleeve and his pants, but his body hadn't suffered any damage.»

«How did you survive that?! Someone like you shouldn't be able to raise up a shield-!»

«Don't be so surprised. Although I am only proficient in curses, but I am still a first class magus.» Abraham cackled.

Indeed, the magus known as Abraham Viniloa was born with a strange Elemental Ability: Curse. Curse magecraft isn't taught at the Mage's Association and it was considered a lowly magecraft. Also, because his Elemental Affinity wouldn't allow him to master any other kind of thaumaturgy, his family's Magic Crest had gone to waste. And yet, he had managed to become a first class magus and a feared Enforcer.

Having managed to go this far despite all the odds being against him was Abraham's pride as a magus and he didn't wear his title lightly.

«Also, it's not very polite to ask for your opponent's secret.» Abraham cracked the joint of his head. «To put it simply, it's like a one-sided Geis. It's gone now though...»

Elena gritted her teeth and clenched her fists in anger, but she had to admit the Enforcer was quite impressive for pulling out a trick like that.

 _Master, are you done yet?_

Elena almost jumped in surprise as she received a mental message from her Servant.

 _No, I've encountered an unplanned rat._

It was true that Abraham had been unexpected, as he wasn't a Master. Elena and Linandir had only learned of his presence from Archer an hour ago. Archer seemed to understand what Elena meant and didn't reply.

Elena needed to deal with the magus quickly. Archer had reminded her it wasn't Abraham she had been looking for.

«It's no time to be daydreaming!»

Abraham impatiently ran toward Elena and swung his right arm. Another dagger which he had kept hidden until now flew in Elena's direction like a guillotine. She tried to dodge it once again, with less success however. The dagger left a large diagonal cut across her back before returning in its owner's sleeve. Fortunately the wound wasn't deep but it was bleeding nonetheless.

She threw several fire spears in retaliation, but Abraham had the initiative and avoided them effortlessly. He raised his left hand and, as if it was a signal, something came out from between the trees.

These were mosquitos, bees, moths and other kinds of insects flying in Elena's direction. Like the first one which attacked her, they were probably venomous. Letting a single one of them sting her would be fatal.

At the same time, Abraham threw his dagger from the opposite side so that Elena couldn't evade the two attacks. It didn't even take a second for Elena to make a choice: either she burned the venomous swarm and was hit by the knife, either she melted down the knife and died stinged by the venomous swarm.

«How foolish.»

Elena simply removed her fur coat. The silver light of the moon revealed numerous jewels still hidden inside. But it wasn't the jewels themselve she cared about; her coat was a Mystic Code.

« _Große Feuerschlange,Wache auf, Iß und stirb auf mein Kommando._ »

When she threw it in the air, the fur coat started to twist and catch fire. Suddenly, it wasn't fire but magma which erupted from what used to be a fur coat and took an elongate form like that of a giant snake. The newly formed magma snake curled up around Elena like a protective shield; the flying swark was swallowed mercilessly by the molten stone; the dagger melted upon coming into contact with the snake.

«It doesn't smell good.» Abraham lost his smirk and grimaced.

The snake unrolled itself and Abraham saw Elena's burning gaze from the other side. Then, without waiting for a command, the magma snake pounded on Abraham. The latter had already lost some of his trump cards and had no choice but to retreat. At the same moment, the ground shook a little and a cloud of dust be seen rising on the other side of the island.

It seems that it somewhat confused the snake or Elena, and Abraham was able to quickly get away.

«I won't let you escape!»

As if reacting to Elena's shout the snake raced through the forest by melting and burning all obstacles. Its objective wasn't to find the magus, who had already disappeared from its field of vision, but to spread as much as possible.

« _Stirb!_ »

All of sudden, the huge magma snake swelled up and exploded like a balloon, producing a great explosion of fire and molten rock which swept away a part of the forest.

«Tch!» Elena clicked her tongue. «I have no time to check if he has survived.»

Ragefully, Elena turned her back to the burning forest and walked away.

* * *

The knight in -literally- shining armor stood firm between his Master and his enemy, Rider of Black. Slowly, gracefully, he held the golden's sword handle with both hands raised it above his head as if he was about to cut the sky.

At this moment, a golden light appeared in the sky, parting the clouds.

It was a light different from that of the moon or the sun. It was a pure light which seemed even further away, in a place where no one could reach it. The golden blade glittered and the celest light which couldn't be reached gently came down to dance around the sword.

And the next instant…

«….Huh?»

Nothing happened.

The golden light shining through the clouds was erased by the blue light of the moon and the light gathering around Saber's sword faded away.

Everyone's reaction was different: Rider had a broad smile indicating he had expected it; Leo was dumbfounded, not knowing wether that was normal or not; Saber's expression was unchanged, still calm as if he wasn't surprised at all.

«I knew it.» Saber claimed as he lowered his sword. «For you to give me back my sword, you must have known it wouldn't work here.»

«Hahahahaha! What's with long face, Saber?! This ship is the territory of the moon! As if the power of your 'Lord' could reach here, servant of God!» Rider guffawed.

«A power that seals away the blessings of any divinity other than the moon?» Saber mused. «I see, that's why I felt something was wrong.»

Saber said this with a tone of resignation and the sword in his hand vanished in agolden light.

«Hey, Saber, what are you doing?!»

«Don't worry, Master. I already told you I plan on winning this war. It doesn't matter if my sword is unusable, as long as I have my shield!» As he said that, Saber raised his shield. He looked determined to fight without the sword that was worth him to be summoned in the great Saber class.

«Why? Does your shield have an awesome power to wipe out this guy?»

«It doesn't. Unlike my sword, my shield doesn't have any offensive power. But that is the exact reason why it is the best of the two. A shield which allow me to protect people is preferable to a sword which enable me to kill people. As long as I have this shield, I will not waver!»

What Saber had just said was admirable, but it didn't change the fact Leo was worried.

(Dammit! This asshole's Noble Phantasm is completely unfair! In the end, why is it a story of lights-... huh?)

Something in Leo's head tilted.

«A story of lights…?»

But of course! Why hadn't he realized that earlier?!

«Saber.» Leo called out to his Servant. «I'll help you one this one!»

«Wha-!» For the first time, Saber looked truly surprised. «What are you saying, Master! There is no way you can fight a Servant!»

«I might not be able to fight gainst a monster like him...» Leo stood up and cracked his knuckle. «But I can make sure you land a hit!»

Leo searched for something through his backpack, and took out a metal glove which looked like a claw -the Phantasm Glove, the Mystic Code of the Argas family. He put it on his left hand and opened and closed his hand to make sure he could move well in it.

Saber still didn't seem to understand, but his look indicated he had decided to trust Leo and he readied himself to fight.

«By the way, Saber.» Leo commented. «I already told you to stop calling me 'Master'!»

Saber stepped powerfully on the ground and shot in Rider's direction with his shield ready. The mad emperor grinned sadistically and took a boxing stance again. When the swordman arrived in front of him, he was ready and launched a punch so strong it might send Saber flying.

But the knight didn't hesitate. He trusted his Master when he had said he could help him reach Rider.

Leo could hardly follow the speed of Servants but, maybe because of the adrenalin, he managed to do what he had planned to.

(Okay, now is not the moment to fail miserably!) he thought to himself to give himself courage.

He doubted his magecraft could do any harm to Rider whi had Magic Resistance as a class skill. However, he didn't need any actual spell to help Saber. Until now he had been cowering in despair by his powerlessness, not realizing he could do something. Saber didn't hesitate, ready to take the attack head-on if he needed to.

But he didn't need to.

Rider looked at his fist dumbfounded as it missed Saber's head. It wasn't like Saber had dodged or anything: although he was sure he had hit in a straight line, Rider's fist flew diagonally, leaving his flank open!

«Haaaaaaaa!»

Saber put all his strength into his arm and rammed his shield into Rider's ribs and sent the emperor flying backward. With an expression of pain on his face, Rider roared ragefully and, propelled by Mana Burst, he pounded on Saber. This time, it wasn't a question of whether he would me or not; there was no way he could miss the knight.

«Die, you woooorm!»

When Rider was about to hit Saber, something strange happened. This time, it had nothing to do with Rider.

Saber shone.

It was as if his chestplate emitted a strong light which seemed to repel Rider's attack and push him back. No, it wasn't what happened; Rider had jumped back to get away from Saber.

«Yooouu bastaaaaard!» Rider was now even more angered than before. He was like a bull excited by a red sheet.

But before the mad emperor could do anything; before the shining knight could strike again with his shield; they noticed something was amiss.

Above them, something had appeared which produced a blinding light and chased away the moonlight.

This something looked like a giant ship floating in the sky.

The next instant, an intense beam of light shot from the UFO in direction of Diana Nemorensis. As soon as he had felt the concentration of magical energy, Saber turned his attention away from Rider, who was too busy to look at the intense light, and grabbed Leo with one hand before jumping out of the boat.

Instead of sinking into the dark water like anyone would, Saber stepped on the water and ran in direction of the island before Leo could say anything.

Rider, who was still standing confused to watch the giant flying 'ship', could do nothing when the beam of light was shot and struck his own ship. As resistant as it was, the boat had lost the blessing of the moon and broke apart with a cracking noise.

«What is-»

Rider, who couldn't imagine being overwhelmed while withing Diana Nemorensis' range, was dumbfounded and didn't react in time.

The mad emperor sank with his ship.

* * *

 _Hi everyone and thank you for reading this chapter!_

 _I promised you this chapter would have action, this chapter has action. In fact, it looks like it's all it has. I'm not too used to write fighting scenes so I hope I did good and that it's not to stacked._

 _This chapter took even longer to write than the previous it seems, the main reason being school. I don't plan on putting this serie on hiatus though, but you have to expect a long interval between each chapters. Once again, thank you fore reading this chapter, don't hesitate to comment, review or ask a question!_

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	9. Chapter VIII: Twisted Justice

**Chapter VIII: Twisted Justice**

* * *

Rider of Black could only stand there dumbfounded when he saw the intense light obstructing the moonlight. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Saber and his Master running away but he payed them no heed.

He stared at the flying 'ship' with eyes full of hatred.

«Who do you think you are to take her away! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!» His yellings sounded more desesperate than rageful. «Give her back…!»

As if replying to his complaint, the 'ship' glowed with even more intensity and a scorching ray of light war fired in direction of Rider's own ship. Although the advantages confered by Diana Nemorensis were great, it was little more than a normal boat now that it was deprived of moonlight.

«What is-?!»

Rider only managed to get away from the center of his boat before the attack struck. With a great cracking sound, Diana Nemorensis broke in two and began sinking.

Rider sank as well.

He reached out his hand toward the surface of the water, but he didn't move and kept sinking.

He could probably swim back there -no, he definitely could. So why was he remaining still?

(How…could I lose?) Was his desperate thought.

He was the champion of the moon! The warrior of the night itself! How could he lose under the light of the moon?!

(My moon…was snatched away…)

How could they overshadow the moon?! There was no way, no way, no way, no way, no way, no way, no way, no way-

(…..!)

A realization interrupted Rider's train of thought.

(….The sun!)

Of course! Only the sun could chase the moon away from the sky; in that case that thing he saw in the sky had to be the sun!

But this answer was even more horrible for Rider, and he hid his face in his hand.

(How can I fight the sun! Ah, Ah! How….-!)

Then, something crept up in Rider's mind. He lowered his hands as an idea both crazy and unthinkable was taking form. Yet, for this man who had given up on sanity, this idea was the ultimate answer.

(The sun…haha, the sun…I can fight it…because the sun is…!)

His ranting went on and on, until something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked in direction of the island. His curiosity won and Rider of Black swam like a fish toward the nameless island.

* * *

Floating hundreds of meters above the sea, the giant UFO was proceeding slowly in direction of the island. Because of the blinding light it emitted, it wasn't wrong to say a second sun, to the point night had turned into day in the area.

It might have looked like a flying ship from afar but the truth was it was very unlike a ship. If one could see beyond the coat of light, they would see a seven stories high golden palace floating between the clouds, as if it was its natural element. It was indeed completely golden as if it was entirely made of gold; through the balconies on each story, richly decorated rooms could be seen, field with as many furniture and decoration as possible -all of them made of gold of course.

At the top of the dazzling castle, in a room just as wealthily decorated as the rest, a boy was looking down at the wrecked ship from the balcony.

The boy was an Asian teenager with black bed hair and dark circles under his eyes. What he was wearing was a Japanese highschool uniform completely worn out as it had never been removed ever since he put it on, and his glasses had one lens broken. Despite his wild appearance, he was standing up straight with a look of diligence. His completely black outfit made him stand out even more in the middle of this golden scenery.

«What do you think of it, Master? Are you satisfied?» A voice behind the boy asked.

At the back of the room, a handsome young man with a slightly tanned skin and blond hair was sitting on a golden throne with his leg crossed. Unlike the boy leaning over the balcony who looked like he had been sleeping in the wild, this man had a majesty emanating from which made people around him want to kneel down. Although he was wearing black pants made of a luxurious fabric, his torso wasn't covered and his arogant smile seemed to say there was no need of protecting it.

The young man -Rider of White looked over his Master with a confident look. The later had asked him to show what he was capable of and Rider believed this sample of his power was more than enough.

«Y-Yes. That's impressive, Rider.» Despite his dignified face, the boy couldn't hide his amazement. Suddenly, a smirk showed up on his face and his voice changed and filled with harshness as if somebody else was speaking. « _Impressive, that is all? It's fucking awesome! This is the power we have sought for, dumbass._ » He reajusted his glasses and went back to his normale tone. «Yes. From now on we'll be the messengers of justice!»

Rider watched his Master talking to himself wih amusement, but he wasn't making fun of him. On the contrary, he found this particular Master of his really intriguing. The boy known as Saten Naraku wasn't just speaking to the void: in this body of his resided another personality, also known as NARAKU.

«And what do you know about justice?» Rider stood up and walked up to Naraku. «Do you know what justice is made of, Master?»

«Of course. Justice is made of power. Those who have power are on the side of justice. As such, the only true justice belong to the strongest man in the world.»

«Ho? You are not wrong in a way.» Rider leaned on the balcony alongside Naraku. «The law of the strongest is always the best because no one can stop the strongest from applying it. But if with me by your side you are the strongest -which I'm assured of- what would be your justice?»

Naraku reajusted his glasses once again but stayed silent for a moment. Then, after pondering for a while, his face suddenly winced and NARAKU spoke on behalf of them.

« _Death! Death for all!_ » He cried. «Calm down, NARAKU. Just shouting isn't an answer.» Naraku turned around and looked at Rider. «But he's right. The only thing humans are equal in is death; thus the ultimate justice is death for all humans.»

«Hahahaha! So much for humans!» Rider laughed. Then he reached out his hand toward the horizon as if he could grab it. «Fine then, if that is your justice I won't ask how you came down to this answer. However, if you stubbornly keep on that way, you'll meet with a law that even the strongest cannot avoid.»

When he said that, Rider's arrogant expression vanished and was replaced by a melancholic look. Naraku tilted his head in wonder as it was the first time he saw Rider with that expression.

«What law are you talking about? Isn't the strongest free from all laws?»

«That's-!»

Rider interrupted his entence midway to grab Naraku and throm him back into the room. The moment after, a volley of arrows pounded on the balcony. Two swords materialized in Rider's hands and he countered the deadly dart flying in his direction.

«It lookes like I'm not even allowed to rant.»

The sword disappeared from Rider's hands and the later looked at the black hill in the middle of the island. He couldn't see who was standing there but he clearly saw the arrows coming from that direction. A carnivorous smile appeared across Rider's face and his aura was filled with killing intant.

«Fine then! I'll show you what await those who defy me!»

Rider snapped his finger and a big mechanic sound resounded within the flying fortress. The truth was the giant structure, aside from being a luxurious residence, was filled with ancient cannons and other heavy artillery. Laser beams like the one which destroyed Rider of Black's ship were fired in direction of the hill.

* * *

Archer of Black clicked his tongue.

«I missed.»

«Hey, how comes you can even see them!» Lancer asked while squinting. «All I can see is this giant shiny thing.»

The two of them were standing side by side on the black hill and were looking at the flying fortress since it suddenly appeared in the sky. Until then, they had continued to fight. Neither of them were seriously injured, but they both seemed out of breath. For the experienced fighters the Servant were, even sweating was unthinkable. However because of Lancer's frenzy and Archer's efforts to dodge his attacks, it felt like like a miracle that they were just out of breath. Actually, only Archer was covered in small scars since his arrows had failed to even graze Lancer, and the later only had the shallow wounds inflicted by **Telemachus**.

But as soon as the night sky suddenly illuminated and that they heard the shootings, they stopped at once and had since tried to understand the situation.

(It doesn't seems like they are on the side of the Mage's Association since Lancer of Red doesn't know them. Seriously, a third party is the last thing we need in this situation!)

Archer's attack had been evaded by the unknown Master and Servant so now they probably had their attention on them.

«!»

Then, Archer felt a concentration of magical energy in the cannons of the flying fortress, and said cannons were pointed at their direction!

«Damn…!» Lancer probably understood as well as both of them jumped as far of the hill as possible.

As soon as they did, numerous beams of light shot from the fortress and razed the top of the black hill. Lancer and Archer landed on the floor while evading the falling rubbles.

Archer swiftly climbed on top of a tree and looked at the golden balcony again. There he saw the unknown Servant smiling at them with a great satisfaction. No, it wasn't just satisfaction. Even from this distance Archer could feel the killing intent emanating from the young man.

«Can you see anything?» Lancer climbed on the tree next to Archer's and looked at the fortress with a serious expression.

«Yes. He probably thinks he got us.» Archer answered and pulled another arrow in his bow.

«Oy, wait! I thought your arrows didn't work against him!»

«Don't think of your case as a generality!» Archer replied in an annoyed tone and fired.

This arrow was much faster than the previous and the unknown Servant seemed to realize it a tad too late. He materialized again his swords in his hands but he wasn't fast enough. The arrows fired by Archer lodged in the Servant's shoulder but the later didn't lost his smile. On the contrary he looked even more interested now that he had seen Archer could hit him.

All of sudden, the bright flying fortress shrinked into a single shining point which could almost be mistaken with a star. The glowing dot began moving trough the air at an unimaginable speeds compared to the slow advance of the large fortress.

The unknown Servant circled around the island several times before stopping all at once and then brusquely appearing above Archer and Lancer in a flash.

Now that he was this close, Archer noticed that the fortress didn't just change of size but also changed of form: the seven stories flying castle had turned into a golden ark inlaid with jewels of all kind and with a throne of gold where the unknown Servant was sitting in and looking down on them. The most surprising feature of the golden aircraft was that it was decorated with countless flowers of all sizes, colours and scents. Some of the flowers were even of completely unreal colors and forms, to the point like the ark looked like a miniature garden from another world. That is, if you forget about the weapons loaded in it.

The unknown Servant smile with the arrogance befitting of one sitting on this godly throne and opened his arms wide like a gesture of welcome.

«Dear warriors and opponents, I, Rider of White, have answered your invitation! Although...» He looked at Archer with a mocking smirk. «…the invitation card tickled somewhat.»

As he said that he dropped the arrow which had been lodged in his houlder at Archer's feet, and moved around his shoulder to show it had already healed.

«You said you are the Rider ' _of White_ '? Does it means there _is_ a third Faction in the war?» Archer asked Rider.

«Faction…» Rider mused. «It is a very great word for a random bunch such as ours, but I guess you call it that way.»

It confirmed Archer's fear. In a simple war against another Faction it was possible to keep a head start and manage the situation, but with an unknown factor going around as they please there is no saying what might happen. The only reassuring thing was that Rider himself didn't seem very convinced of their unity.

Archer sighed and decided to contact his Master through their mental connection.

 _Master, the situation is bad._

 _Archer! What's going on!_

 _I don't have the time to explain everything, but I'm afraid we have an uninvited guest and I think our Rider was defeated._

 _Defeated?! What is that moron Eïchtobell doing!_

 _At any rate, the situation is guetting out of hand. I recommend you to-_

«Hey, do you really think you can ignore me now?» Rider spoke up and interrupted Archer in his mental discussion. «Surely you didn't attack me and my Master just to ask a question.» He raised his hand and several holes opened on each sides of the ark. «I hope your power is at least as great as your impudence, fool!»

Rider of White snapped his fingers. In reaction to his command, a mechanical sound resounded from the holes which just opened up and a myriad of golden projectiles rained down on the two Servants.

All sound vanished and the ground of the island was covered in explosions.

* * *

Following the destruction of **Diana Nemorensis** , Saber of Red was now heading toward the island all the while princess-carrying Leo in his arms. Rather than swiming all the way to the island like Leo had expected (not that he would be capable of such a feat) Saber was walking on the surface on the water. No, actually it looked more like the water was supporting Saber's feet one purpose.

«I didn't knew you could walk on water!» Leo shouted while clutching to Saber with all his strength.

The speed of a Servant was nothing to laugh at, and the truth was Leo was afraid of anything moving too fast.

«I can't exactly walk on water.» Saber corrected. «It is the protection of the Lord upon me which allow me to take you in safety.»

All while saying that, Saber was looking back at the massive glowing UFO flowing hundred of meters above them. It had been able to destroy Rider of Black's Noble Phantasm instantly and he was probably worried that it might attck them now.

However, there was one fact which really disturbed Leo right now. Saber and Lancer are supposed to be the only Red Servants sent in the Azores. Despite that fact, the UFO had attacked and wrecked down the boat of Rider of Black, which meant they weren't allies.

«Graaah! The situation is getting more complicated!»

«Indeed. It would be wiser to meet up with Miss Hatsuyo and make a point on the situation.» Saber calmly stated.

«How can you be so calm in a situation like this!» Leo complained almost comically.

«?» Saber returned a quizzical look to Leo. «Then would you rather I panick and drop you?»

«Don't!»

Saber was right. Everything had happened so fast Leo was utterly confused but now wasn't the moment to lose his cool or else the situation will just worsen. He had to find Hatsuyo and Abraham -in fact it had been his goal frm the beggining.

At that moment, severals beams of lights were fired from the UFO in direction of the island. Leo and Saber couldn't see where exactly the attack had been aimed at, but even they could feel the heat from where they were actually.

«What was that?! I thought it was a battle with ancient warriors, not a sci-fi movie!»

«Master, what is a sci-fi movie?»

«Err, now is not the moment... W-Wait wait, I'm slipping, I'm slipping!»

A couple of seconds after, they had reached the shore. With a sigh of relief, Leo jumped down from Saber's arms and took a deep breath as if he had been drowning. Then, remembering the situation they were in, he looked at the deep forest in front them…

And was met by absolute silence.

Two or more Servants as well as their Master were supposed to be fighting on the island, and Leo had even witnessed smoke rising in the distance while he was on Rider's boat. But as if completely denying that fact, the forest was wrapped up in a silence only disrupted by the sound of the waves breaking on the shore.

However, the remains of the fishing boat they had stolen resting further away on the sand proved that Leo's teammates had arrived on the island and were somewhere inside the dark forest.

«Alright, let's go Saber! There's no time to waste.»

«Ah. Master, maybe you should wait a little!»

«What are you talking abou-ah!»

Leo had barely taken a few step in direction of the trees that something felt wrong with his legs and he immediatly lost balance. After spitting the sand in his mouth he stood up and once again started to run toward the forest. And for the second time, he lamentably tripped over.

«…What the hell is going on?!» Leo shouted in exasperation after rolling to his back.

«Calm down Master.» Saber walked up to Leo and sat in a Japanese fashion right next to him. «You should take a minute to rest.»

«What are you saying? As if I could rest in a moment like this!»

Leo protested but Saber simply shook his head and pointed at his Master's legs. When he looked in the same direction, Leo immediatly understood the problem.

«Kh, as if it was the moment you idiot.» Leo admonished himself.

It wasn't that his legs were hurt or that he had tripped on something. Leo's legs, as well as the rest of his body, were simply shaking heavily.

When he checked his watch, he realized it had only been around ten minutes since everything started. Since then Leo hadn't been allowed a single second to take his breath. The only reason he had been able to think normally and help Saber against Rider was a rush of adrenalin and his anger for what happened to the people of Candelária.

In the way he was now, Leo couldn't take three steps. In resignation, he dropped his arms on each side of his body and looked at the stary sky while trying to calm his breathing.

Slowly, the shaking in his body lessened and his breathing calmed. Saber's expression was still neutral yet his eyes revealed a hint of compassion for Leo's state.

«Master, you said you didn't have a wish to fight for...and that you dislike being a magus. You're not made to be on a battlefield.»

«I don't need you to tell me that.» Leo hid his eyes behind his arm. «…...Hey, Saber...»

«What is it Master?»

«When you were alive…..were you afraid before going to battle?»

«?» Saber looked at him surprised. «Afraid?»

«Yes!» Leo exclamated and he sat up abruptly to look at Saber. «Weren't you afraid to die?!»

«…..» Saber thought a few seconds before answering. «….Yes, I was afraid. Dying means losing everything. I couldn't allow myself to die.»

«…..»

Leo reflected upon Saber's words. ' _Dying means losing everything_ '. It was true Leo didn't want to lose anything.

His uncle.

His cousin.

His life outside the Clock Tower.

And…

«…...You're right.» Leo stood up. «I cannot allow myself to die here either.»

«Don't worry, Master. I'll be by your side to protect you.»

«Thank you, Saber.» Leo let out a self-mocking chuckle. «I can't believe it. It's already the second time you cheer me up-…!»

Before he could finih his sentence, the two of them noticed something strange: the UFO which had been advancing slowly in their direction was shrinking to the point it was less than a tenth of its original size. It then started to move around such a speed only the trail of light left behind was visible.

It circled around the island three or four time as if it was looking for something before plunging toward an exact location like a hawk on its prey.

«What is he…?»

Leo and Saber observed silently the aircraft, waiting for its next move. From their location, they could hardly see what was going on.

However, the next instant, a rain of some unknown golden object poured down on the island. The surreal silence reigning on the forest was broken apart by the sounds of many explosions and the ground shook heavily.

In an instant, Leo's body completely stop shaking and his head filled with one thought.

«Saber!»

Leo was already sprinting in direction of the explosions without waiting for Saber. There was no need for it though. The knight was running next to his Master with his sword in one hand and his shield in the other.

«Saber, go ahead without waiting for me!»

«But Master, there could be a foe nearby!»

«I already know that! But if we only go at my speed we might be too late!»

«But…!»

«Listen: I might not look like it but I'm a magus! I know at least how to defend myself!»

Saber greatly hesitated at his Master's words. It was true that if he had to ajust his speed to Leo's it will take longer to reach the location of the battle. However, they weren't alone on this island and they didn't know how many opponents they had. In this situation there was no way he could leave his Master alone when the later couldn't fight against a Servant.

After a second that felt like an eternity to Leo, Saber gave his answer.

«…...I refuse. It's too dangerous to leave you on your own, Master. Moreover, Miss Hatsuyo has a Servant of her own, but if I leave you alone, who will protect you?»

«Did you listen to me? I'm perfectly able to survive on my own without even fighting!»

It won't do. In the distance, Leo saw the glowing aircraft getting further away. That probably meant the battlefield was moving too. At this rate, they'll never make it in time.

«Then in that case...» Leo pulled back the sleeve of his left arm. On the back of his laft hand were the three Command Spells of which form was reminiscent of a creepy smile. «I'll have to use a Command Spell on you!»

Saber was shocked.

The Command Spells weren't only the symbol of a magus' status as Master, they were also a crystallization of great magic, a true trump card of the Master which could be used to give an absolute order to a Servant or enhance their abilities. And yet his Master was ready to use one on Saber for an order that would put him in great potential danger.

Saber looked at the determination in Leo's eyes and, after another hesitation, abdicated.

«Very well, Master. However, promise me to use a Command Seal to call me if you meet with an enemy!»

After saying these last words, Saber sped up and disappeared from Leo's field of vision.

«Heh! I bet I even won't need to use one.»

Now that Saber would join the battle, Leo felt more reassured. However he couldn't ignore Saber's warning. He knew how to well how dangerous the situation was.

Leo ran between the trees all the while remaining on his guard.

* * *

At the same moment, Hatsuyo was running through the forest as well. However, she wasn't heading for the battle between Archer, Lancer and Rider of White. Lancer had clearly asked her to stay away; Hatsuyo understood that she would just drag him down by staying and she was confident in his victory.

Yes, there was no way Lancer could lose!

But because she was staying away didn't mean she wouldn't do anything while her Servant was fighting. As she ran she kept her hand tightly grasped around the handle of her katana, ready to unsheath at any second.

«As soon as I find one of these bastard...» She muttured under her breath with the ferocity of a predator. «I cut them in pieces!»

* * *

«Ha….Ha...Ha...!»

Leo was running like crazy so it was obvious he would soon be out of breath. He wasn't used to sprinting on such a long distance, let alone in the middle of a forest. Despite that fact, he didn't stop running.

It had been barely one minute since Saber and him had splitted and he could still hear the sounds of explosions and the ground shaking under his feet. But no matter how much he ran it felt like he would never get near from the battlefield. It was all the more frustrating because he had no way of knowing what was the situation for Saber. He heard Masters and Servants could communicate through their mental connection but he didn't really know how to do.

«Dammit...Ha…Hatsuyo better...Ha...bow before me after that!»

But all of sudden a tremor ten time stronger than those caused by the explosions occured, and Leo was sent flying forward. Fortunately, he randomely landed into a bush and was sparred any damage.

«I seriously getting sick of falling.» Leo commented painfuly as he rose from the bush and brushed aside the leaves stuck in his hair.

Suddenly being cut in his running made him all the more conscious of the state of his body. His lungs were burning and crying for air, his limbs were painfully strained and his feet felt as if they had been run over by a car. But he didn't have time to pay any heed to his body's complaints.

The ground wasn't shaking anymore and he couldn't hear any sound of explosion since that last tremor, but Leo wasn't any less clueless about the situation than before.

But when he tried to start running again, his shaken stomach caused him to sudenly retch and his body bent forward.

That was what saved his life.

At the exact same moment, something akin to large spear passed right over him and sunk into the tree next to Leo with a noise of cracking bones, before rectracting and disappearing between the trees.

«...Ah.» Leo was completely frozen from the realization of what happened, and he felt a bead of sweat drip down his head.

He slowly turned his head in direction of where the attack had come from but he saw no one. Then, Leo could hear footsteps followed by a metallic noise but still no one showed up.

«You know, it's pointless to hide when you make so much noise.» Leo noted.

His comment was answered by more metallic noises and his instinct urged Leo to duck behind a tree a few meters on his left, just in time to escape the barrage of spears which swept away several trees and revealed his assailant: it was a young man in his mid-twenties with light brown hair gathered in a short ponytail and wearing a black suit. But what was more striking was the strange object standing -or rather floating behind him.

It looked like a big cylindric object of 170 centimeters of diameter made of metal. All around it, disposed at equal distance from one another was what Leo had mistaken for spears. Actually these looked like big pointy snake heads made of steel and designed to be very sharp. Given the magical energy Leo could feal emanating from it, it was most likely a Mystic Code.

And the one using it, a Master.

«How long are going to stay hidden, coward of the Mage's Association?» The man tauntingly called out to Leo with a serious tone.

«He, who's the coward? The one hiding or the one attacking without even presenting himself?»

While replying, Leo jumped from his tree to behind a big bush. As soon as the man heard Leo's voice, several 'snake heads' shot out from the weird device like bullets and smashed his former hidding place. When he saw he had missed, the man gritted his teeth.

«You're still respecting courtesy on a battlefield? Fine then, allow me to present myself: I am Linandir Eïchtobell from New Edge Corporation, as well as Rider of Black's Master.»

Upon hearing this last sentence, Leo shuddered.

(Rider of Black's….Master?)

All at once, images came back in front of Leo's eyes. These were from barely an hour earlier, yet they felt as distant as another world.

A town surrounded by silence

.

.

.

.

.

Bodies lying in the street as if sleeping

.

.

A smell of rotten and metal

.

.

.

.

.

A pool of blood

.

.

.

.

.

And in this pool…

«What about you then? If you ask for my name, it's basic courtesy to give yours.» Linandir called out at Leo.

….But he couldn't answer.

Something rose up within Leo. A feeling of anger and sadness mixing together in his chest and making a lump in his throat. His fists were clenched and he felt a taste of blood in his mouth from bitting his lips.

«…...gas…..» A sound unexpectedly came out of his mouth, barely audible.

But it had been enough for Linandir to know where it came from and, after a snap of his fingers, two of the tentacle-like spears shot toward Leo's location.

Leo understood this, yet he didn't move. The feeling in his chest wouldn't allow him to.

By a stroke of chance, the spears didn't hit spot on and only grazed his arm. However they had broken the tree behind which Leo had been hiding. The treetrunk fell on the side and revealed Leo and Linandir to each other.

Linandir's expression was serious, whithout an ounce of hesitation. Leo didn't knew what face he was making, but it was probably close to that of a mad animal. The lump in his throat faded away at the moment their eyes met.

«I am Leonidas Argas, Saber of Red's Master!»

«Saber of Red, huh?» Linandir mused. «I see that our Servants already fought. It makes the situation feel somewhat ironic.» Despite what he said, his face was dead serious and he looked deep in Leo's eyes. «But you really was an idiot for blowing up your cover. Now die.»

The Mystic Codes emitted a metallic sound. Leo knew what that meant. In a second, the spears would shoot right at him and it will be an instant death.

«….Why?»

«Hm?» Linandir heard the faint word coming out of Leo's mouth. «Do you have some last words?»

«Rider is responsible for what happened in Candelária, right?»

Upon hearing this unexpected question, Linandir was slightly taken aback. However, he seemed to understand what Leo meant.

«Indeed.»

«Then was it your order?»

«….It was.»

A heavy silence settled down between the two.

«Why?!» Leo's voice was filled with the wrath he couldn't hold back. «Why did you kill them?! They had nothing to do with the war!»

«Why, you ask?» Linandir took an expression that seemed to say it was obvious. «To make my Servant stronger, of course. In order to win the Holy Grail War, I have to make sure my Servant can win.»

«You want the Grail so much you'd kill tens of people for it?!»

Linandir frowned. His spoke his reply slowly.

«What is wrong with you.»

«What did you say?!»

«Of course I want the Holy Grail! To see my wish granted, I'm ready to make any sacrifice necessary. And so should you.»

«As if. There's no wish that would justify killing tens of innocents! That's just your selfish desire!»

«Exactly.»

This time, it was Leo's turn to be taken aback by Linandir's swift and doubtless answer.

«What….»

«If you can spat out so much bullshit, I take it you don't have a wish on your own. Then step down! Someone like you who doesn't even understand the situation he's in has nothing to do on a battlefield.»

«What do mean? This is madness!»

«This is a war!»

Leo's body shook. It wasn't as much for Linandir shouting than because the words he heard.

' _This is a war_ '.

Until now, Leo hadn't been able to understand the true meaning of these words. To think he was in a battle royal might not be to farfetched for him; but an all out battle where even outsiders who didn't have anything to do with the ritual are being slaughtered without anyone questioning it was…!

«And if you don't fight for your life...» The metallic noise rang again. «...then you'll end up just like the poeple of Candelária!»

The spears shot out. But this time Leo wasn't immobilized by his emotions. At the same moment, he jumped aside and ran…in direction of his opponent.

«Are you an idiot?»

The spears retracted and shot out again. Leo ducked and rolled on the floor. There was a ditance of twenty meters between them, but thanks to his good landing and to the time intervalle between the attacks, he was able to take out something from behind his back.

It was a knife.

Leo threw the knife at his enemy with all his strength. Of course he wasn't an expert knife thrower, so all his was aiming at was 'Linandir's body'. The latter, who didn't have the time to dodge, intercepted the blade with his left hand. His face twisted because of the pain, but that was it.

«Was that your last move, Argas?» Linandir asked coldly.

But Leo wasn't listening at all. He was already concentrating his prana while holding to his Phantasm Glove.

« _Je n'existe pas_!»

«Die!»

This time, all the spears shot out at once, surrounding Leo and obstructing all his way of escape.

As expected, he was unable to dodge and the spears teared apart his body without any sign of resistance. His torso was ripped off from his lower body and half of his face was

Linandir looked at the mass of mince meat on the ground with a miserable look. The boy didn't have the time feel pain nor to scream.

«That's what you get, Argas.» He eventually said in a neutral tone and walked away.

After walking a few meters, Linandir's body shook slightly but unnaturally, and he nearly lost his sway in doing so. He managed nevertheless to stay up by leaning his hand againts a nearby tree.

«What...is…!»

When he looked at his free hand, he realized that his vision was slightly blurred and that his hand was trembling.

«That's what _you_ get, asshole!»

A tightly clenched fist flew and struck Linandir's face with all the strength of a thousand years' worth of anger. The impact was made even more painful by the five rings of hard steel at each finger. Linandir's body flew back and his landed heavily on his back.

Everything had happened so fast Linandir didn't even have the time to understand where the attack came from…no, actually he knew perfectly well where it had come from.

«I...Imposs...» Linandir writhed in pain and confusion on the ground.

Right in front of him, in the direction in which Linandir had been walking was standing… Leonidas Argas!

At the place where the 'dead' Leo had been lying a second ago…there was absolutely nothing; nothing but a pool of blood.

An illusion.

Linandir probably still didn't understand, but the Leo he had seen being shredded in pieces by his Mystic Code had been nothing more than an illusion.

Illusion and other types of deceiving generally weren't regarded highly in the Mage's Association. However, the Argas family had made it its trademark to the point where they were they were capable of 'mimicking the truth' or so had Inheim told him. The truth was Leo still wasn't skilled enough to do without the Phantasm Glove and various other tool. The knife he had thrown at Linandir had been soaked in a drug -not poison; Leo didn't want to get arrested for accidental murder- which lowered the victims focus so that they let themself immerse in the delusion.

He had also squashed a water baloon filled with blood -not his own- because he still wasn't able to trick his opponent's nose.

«I ain't got time to lose with you!» Leo declared and ran off toward his original destination.

«Wait...urgh!….Argas!»

Linandir called out but in vain. The drug didn't allow him to stand up properly, much less walk. All he could do was stretching out his hand to ward to Leo's back as the latter disappeared between the trees.

* * *

The sounds of explosion were getting louder as Saber got closer and closer to the source of intense light creating dancing shadows in the forest. As he got nearer, the knight now had a better view of what had seemed like a shooting star from afar. Yet he couldn't recognize the technology used for the magnificent golden aircraft nor from which country it came. The simple concept of aircraft was unheard of during Saber's time and the closer that he could have imagined would have been a gryphon; however the knowledge provided by the Grail informed him of the existence of such vehicles before his time, and Saber could tell from a single glance that the Mystery of the unknown Noble Phantasm was high enough to date back from the Age of Gods.

Saber soon heard something cutting the air and swiftly jumped in time to avoid a golden shell pounding on him. Upon contacting the ground, the shell produced a bright massive explosion. From what Saber could tell, the blast produced by these projectile was on par with a A rank attack.

(It would be bad to take a direct hit from these.) Saber concluded and focused his attention for any future attack.

But no other missile flew in his direction by the time Saber reached the battlefield. Or reather what could be called the battlefield.

The sight itself was quite incredible: where there had probably been a luxurious vegetation five minutes ago, nothing was left. The earth was completely scorched from the repeted attacks from the aircraft, turning a dense forest into a desolate and smoking clearing.

The golden missiles were still raining down from the flowered ark, covering the ground with fire and destruction. Yet, those to whom they were destined were able to evade the rain of death. One of the figures was that of Lancer of Red, dancing between the shells and the explosions. The other one was unknown to Saber but he was visibly an Archer, sniping the aircraft from afar all the while changing of firing spot each time to avoid the hail of bullets fired by machine guns.

Finally, the third figure was that of a young man standing triomphally on the ark with a confident pose.

«Is that all? I must say I am disappointed, humans. To think I got my hopes up when I saw you were able to wound me.» Rider let out a scornful laugh.

«Kh! You son of a…Come down there bastard!» Lancer shouted angrily while dodging Rider's bombardment.

«No can do. There is no point in bothering to come at your level if you're overwhelmed by mere artillery.» Rider tauntingly waved his hand as if to chase away a fly.

«You little brat, I'll show you what those who underestimate me get when they anger me!» Lancer let his anger flow out and jumped with tremendous strength.

Several missiles were fired his way to stop him from getting on the ark, but Lancer cut them all by half with a gracious yet precise swung of his spear, and they ended their course on the floor. But just when it looked that Lancer could reach Rider's aircraft, a machine gun turned its attention to him. Although Lancer miraculously managed to counter all the bullets coming his way, he was sent back to the floor.

On his side, Archer wasn't any more successful than Lancer; despite the volleys of arrow shot toward Rider and his Master, none of them hit their target. Those who weren't shot down by the aircraft's artillery were intercepted by Rider's swords.

«Come on, was that previous arrow just a fluke Archer?»

«Tch,….does he have an infinite supply of those?» Archer looked at the holes which had opened up on both sides of Rider's Noble Phantasm.

However, as suddenly as they had appeared, these holes disappeared. The gatling stopped firing as well.

The golden aircraft rose higher in the sky, as if mocking the ones trying to reach it in vain.

«What is he planning?» It was a perfect opportunity to try and reach it now that the curtain of fire had disappeared, but Lancer didn't try anything.

Neither did Archer. They simply couldn't charge in when their opponent had stopped attacking by himself. But looking as if he was disappointed even by their hesitation, Rider sighed disdainfully.

«I'm just wasting prana pointlessly on two bugs who won't even let me enjoy it. I might as well end this now.»

As he said that, the bottom of the ark opened up and a cannon came out. It was the same as those who had destroyed Rider of Black's ship and the black hill.

A chill ran down Archer's spine. They had managed to dodge this attack once. However they were almost at point blank for such a destructive weapon. They will not get away unharmed.

The hole of the cannon glowed indicating it would fire at any time now.

It was as this moment someone stepped in between the two Servants and the aircraft.

«Oy, what are you doing here?» Lancer asked, surprised.

«….» But Saber didn't answer.

He stared at the upcoming attack; and raised his white shield with a red cross on it.

«Ha? Looks like someone else wants to die.» Rider smirked. «You were lucky enough to survive previously, but now you're wasting this chance?»

Saber didn't move out of the way and simply looked back at Rider with neutral yet somewhat determined eyes.

«I didn't come here to die. If you really think you can kill me with your attack, then I shall counter it.»

«Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Then show me!» Rider's face twisted in a demonic grin.

The cannon fired. A beam of energy so bright it hurt the eyes and so hot the trees nearby dried came toward the knight and the two other Servants.

Rider was right to think that they would die from the powerful attack. If the missiles had enough power to severely injure a Servant, this beam would bring them to ashes the moment it touched them. The blast resulting from this attack would probably also blow away the surroundings and no matter how fast they were, they'd be killed the moment it touched them. But that was only if it touched them.

Saber took a step forward and readied his shield.

But what if there was a wall between them? A strong, unwavering wall that wouldn't let any attack come through? Then, surely, they wouldn't die.

« **Lord Camelot: Fortress of the Distant Utopia**!»

And that wall appeared.

The moment Saber cried out the shield's true name, the latter emitted a pale light. Unlike the light from Rider's aircraft and attacks, it was a gentle, caring light, yet at the same time firm and strong. This light expended in the form a shield, a great wall. The beam of light struck the shield of light and the earth shook tremendously. But the shield stood still. Saber stood still.

It was almost as if the light projected from the shield actually came from Saber himself. The splendid knight didn't take a single step back; as long as he ramained standing, the wall wouldn't crumble.

Yes, so long the heart doesn't break, this wall too shall never crumble.

Eventually, the attack of Rider came to an end. The two lights faded away without trace, if not for the ground below them: where the beam had struck, the earth was scorched and pulverized. Yet, behind Saber, the land remained unscated.

«Is this enough for you, Rider?» Saber collectedly asked.

«….»

Rider didn't answer. He was utterly dumbfounded by Saber's success. However, incredulity was quickly replaced with an excited expression. His face lit with a cruel smile and an intense killing intent and bloodlust emanated from the Rider of White.

He laughed.

«Ha...haha...hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!» The chuckle turned into a maniacal laugh and Rider embraced himself in delight. «Looks like at least one person here can prove to be interesting!»

He stopped laughing and spread his arms theatrically.

«Very well then!»

What came next went against everyone's expectation.

Two lump of fat formed on Rider's shoulder blades and two big black wings sprouted from his back. The rest of his body looked like water in ebullition and grew bigger and more muscular. When his body stopped changing form, Rider took off in the night sky and descended upon earth. He landed in front of Saber, raising clouds of dust and coal with each flap of his wings.

After he had landed, the pair of black wings disappeared from Rider's back as unnaturaly as it had appeared.

Rider of White smirked confidently while watching the knight in armor standing in front of him. In one hand, he held a mace while in the other was a scimitar both made of gold and obsidian.

Saber didn't flinch and readied his weapon for the fight.

«Entertain me before dying, Saber.»

Rider dashed over Saber and swung his mace down. Saber parried with his shield and the shock between the two created a gust of wind. Saber pushed the mace aside and swung his sword accurately at Rider's neck, but the later paried with his sword and, putting all his strength in his arms, sent Saber flying backward.

The knight landed skillfully and disappeared in a blur as he charged his opponent. The two met in a great clash which resounded far in the forest. They then engaged into a fierce duel akin to a real storm of weapons and blows. Rider turned out not to be only talk as he was able to match up with a highly reknowned knight like Saber; however Saber's swordmanship was higher and he managed to place se veral small wounds on his opponent from time to time -although those almost instantly healed. Also, Rider's choice of weapon wasn't to his advantage: although a mace made much more damage than a sword, it was also heavier and harder to swing around. The Servant apparently understood that as he soon switched his mace for another weapon, lighter and with a better range; a trident.

While occupying Saber's sword with his own, Rider moved the trident around with one hand skillfully and aimed for his legs to sweep them away. But Saber felt it coming and lept back. He was still mid-air that Rider powerfully hurled his trident in his direction, and Saber had no choice but to counter it with his shield. However that was what Rider had intended for. He immediatly lept in Saber's direction with a sword in each hand and swung them both down with great strength, propelling the knight toward the ground at high speed.

With a loud crash, Saber slammed against the ground and raised a cloud of dust.

But Rider didn't stop there; he nimbly bolted toward the location where Saber had fallen. There, the swordman was already waiting for him and parried the onslaught of attack despite the dust obstructing his view. He couldn't keep it for long unfortunately. Rider had become even more fierce and unrelenting than before, and his skills which were originally on par with Saber's were now superior.

Even in this situation, Saber didn't seem to panick and kept a cool head. Even if the difference betweenthem grew, with proper anticipation and discrnment he was able to keep fighting without problem.

And there was another advantage on Saber's side.

«Oy, have you forgotten about me, you bastard?»

A shadow passed near the two of them. Rider instinctively swung his swords in direction of the sillhouette, but the blades only cut through air and a red horizontal line appeared on Rider's forehead -and healed.

Lancer of Red, offended of being ignored despite being there first, danced around the disoriented Rider who in spite of his great abilities wasn't able to stand up to the spearman's agility and evasiveness. He struggled yet didn't manage to land a hit on Lancer. Eventually, the latter quit playing around and thrusted his spear toward Rider's head. This time, it was Rider's turn to spring backward; but like in his fight with Archer, Archer darted in his opponent's direction.

There was no escape this time -the spear cleaved a few of Rider's fingers and pirced through his heart effortlessly.

«Bf!….Ghaaa…!» Rider vomited blood but still stood on his legs with Lancer's spear impaling his heart.

«You had lost from the moment you had come down from your ship. I swear, you must be the greatest idiot to give up your only advantage like you did.» Lancer said in a mocking tone what would have been obvious to most.

«…..»

«?» Saber looked at the two from where he was. Lancer's victory made no doubt, yet his eyes widened. «No….Lancer, stand back!»

«!»

Lancer heard Saber's voice and jumped away just in time to avoid getting his arm cut off by a war axe swung by Rider.

«That asshole, how is he…!» Lancer sweared.

Saber, Lancer and Archer looked at the bloodied Servant standing up on the ground perfectly despite the hole in his chest. The hole in question quickly started to fill up with blood and meat and disappeared completely in the blink of an eye. Rider whiped the blood on his face with his forearm and said:

«What were you saying about my lost, Lancer?»

«….»

«….»

Both Saber and Lancer were highly surprised by Rider's survival from having his heart pierced, but didn't lower their guard even so.

Servant could only be killed if their Spiritual Core was destroyed and didn't allow them to stay matarialized anymore. Generally, as the head and the heart are directly connected to it, a Servant would die upon losing one of them or both. However, some Servants may have a different weakness due to the particularity of their legend.

In other word, if the heart was no good, Rider's weakness was somewhere esle.

However, Archer, who was observing from afar, had another idea in mind. He had originally planned to attack Rider's Master while he was fighting against Saber, but it looked like the golden aircraft was surrounded by a strong boundary field. As careless as Rider looked, he wouldn't allow his Master to be killed.

«His healing rate is too fast to be simple healing magecraft. And repairing a heart ask for some unreal skill to be done so fast, much more to create a new one.»

In that case, it was probably a Noble Phantasm of Rider's.

Archer pulled an arrow in his bow.

«However, it doesn't matter where his Spritual Core is.»

The arrow in Archer's black bow glowed an intense blue.

«A headless enemy is a dead enemy! **Thelemachus**!»

For the second time in the same day, Archer released his Noble Phantasm. The shining arrow flew in a straight line toward Rider. The latter remarked it, but he was too slow.

The arrow drilled through his skull and his head was blown away.

This time, Rider's body fell to the floor. Saber let out a sigh of relievement. The heart was a thing, but even **Battle Continuation** didn't allow to fight without a head.

Rider of White was dead.

«He, what a strange fellow.» Lancer puffed. «Oh, by the way Saber; where is your Master? I assumed he would be with you since -unlike _my_ Master- he cannot defend himself.»

«He ordered me to help you and to leave him behind.»

«Is he for real?! Haha, he must pretty stupid to think he can discard his trump card like this! I'm starting to like him.»

«I trust my Master in his ability to survive.» Although Saber still retained some doubts, he didn't let it show in his voice nor on his face. «But what about you, Lancer? Judging from your words, Miss Hatsuyo doesn't seem to be here with you.»

«You're right, I left her behind as well -though I'm more worried for our enemies than for her. If your Master is looking for her, he'll be disappointed.»

«Hm, I see.» Saber mused. If Lancer's Master wasn't here, he should probably go back to Leo. However, when he was about to go back…«…...»

«I can take care of Archer of Black by myself so you-…...Ah...»

Saber, Lancer and Archer were all utterly openmouthed. For a few dozens of meters away...

.

.

.

In the pool of blood

the headless body

stood up

and a

new head

sprout back

as if nothing had happened.

«Useless.» Rider of White muttered under his breath. «It's all useless!»

* * *

«…...ngnn…..Argas...»

As soon as the drug had stopped affecting his body, and even before, Linandir had started to move through the forest, sometimes walking sometimes running. His mind was still hazy though and he could only think of one thing: going after the one who had left him behind.

«…...Aghhh…..» His head hurt, as well as his cheek which now had a big bruise on it. «….! Who's there!»

But his mind -almost- cleared immediatly whe he heard a rustling somewhere near. When he finally spotted them, he saw an Asian girl wearing a red and white uniform as well as some strange black light armor. Her hand was on the handle of a well-decorated katana hanging at her waist, and she proceeded with unsheating it with a clear metal sound ringing.

«Found ya.» Hatsuyo declared.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and happy New Year!_

 _Well, I wished I had actually finished it for the New Year but shit happened and you know the drill._

 _Some of you might have noted something strange with Rider of White; the most courageous probably went through the previous chapters. That's right, I've changed the Heroic Spirit for Rider of White. The reason is I wasn't completely comfortable with my previous choice and as he had yet to have an important role, I decided to replace him. And I think this one will be much more interesting to write about._

 _Once again, thank you for reading this chapter. Don't hesitate to comment, review or ask a question!_

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	10. Chapter IX: Sunrise and Sunset

**Chapter IX: Sunrise and Sunset**

* * *

The haziness and pain in his head were slowly fading away. Now that his mind was clearer, Linandir could observe the one in front of him better.

A few dozen of meters away, an Asian girl in her late teens was standing defiantly and looking right in his eyes. Her face was bearing an expression midway between annoyed and angry -in that regard, she looked a lot like Archer of Black's Master. She was wearing rather normal clothes, a mix of white and red -but all that was covered by a black light armor covering her upper body and her limbs. She had two katanas in her possession: one was hanging in its sheath at her waist and was of the same color as her armor; on the other hand, the second sword was unsheathed and she was holding it in her hand.

«Who...are you?» Linandir asked weakly, yet loudly enough to be heard.

«That's not your business. I don't need to give my name to someone who's about to die.»

«Pfft. That's a cliché line, you know?» He chuckled. «Though I guess if you're looking at me with this expression, you must be on the same side than this bastard Arguas. Or are you the master of that weird Servant in the spaceship?»

«Spaceship? I have no idea what crap you're talking about. I'm Lancer of Red's Master. That's all you need to know.»

The unknown samurai girl held the katana with two hands and took a fighting stance. There was no mistaking it; unlike Leonidas Argas whom he had an argument with a moment ago, this girl would really kill him if she had the occasion.

Thus, it seemed the Mage's Association didn't only send sentimentalists.

«Though, if you lost to this dumb idiot, you must be pretty damn weak.»

Linandir clicked his tongue. His mind wasn't completely clear yet but he could fight.

«That's not your business.»

Linandir raised his hand and gave the signal for the Hydra Metali -his Mystic Code- to attack.

At the same moment, the girl put strength in her legs and rushed at him with the tip of her blade pointed at his head.

* * *

 **Years ago**

 **Clock Tower**

This was where eveything had started; in one of the hallways of the Clock Tower.

In this hallway, a teenage boy about sixteen-year-old was wandering aimlessly whilst looking intently at a piece of paper in his hand as if he wanted it to burn. His hair was shorter, his features less hard-faced and his body as a whole was smaller than several years later, but all in all the boy could be reconized as Linandir Eïchtobell. His clothes could be called casual, although the way they were meticulously arranged clearly showed it was for a special occasion.

After all, he wasn't in the Clock Tower for naught -it was his first day as a student. Or at least he wished he could say that, for at the moment he had yet to reach his classroom.

«….Khhh,…..Haaaa, I've had enough! These damn instructions are utter bullshit!» He threw up his hands in frustration and ragefully teared apart the paper with the direction on it.

It was quite the nice hallway: the sweet morning sunlight was leisurely filtering through the large windows, making it an ideal nap area for a cat. But he wasn't a cat; and more importantly he had to reach his classroom before being more late than he already was. Unfortunately there wasn't anyone around and he had already lost his only guide in this hellish labyrinth, namely the piece of paper he had just ripped to shred.

«Wonderful. Just wonderful. What should I do now?»

All he could do now was holding his head in his hands and running around with the hope that he miraculously find his way. Which he did -holding his head in his hands and running around that is; especially the latter. And of course it eventually resulted in him colliding with someone else at a sharp turn.

«Kya!»

«Gh! Hey, watch where you're going!» Linandir exclamed angrily even though he was clearly the one at fault.

«I-I'm sorry! Truly sorry!» And the victime apologized without reason.

The person laying down on the ground in front of of him was a girl roughly the same age as him, although smaller, with long raven hair and a braid on the side of her head. Her clothing was rather casual -in fact more so than Linandir's. Her expression was both confused and apolegetic, giving her a rodent-like cuteness that would make anyone go 'd'awwwww'. Anyone except Linandir.

Still, gentlemanliness oblige, he held out his hand to help her stand up, and the unknown girl accepted it with delight.

«T-thank you very much! Allow me to present myself, my name is- Wait!»

«Sorry but I don't have time to spare.»

Linandir ignored the girl's presentation and walked past her hurriedly. However, the latter made a splendid dive and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, begging him to hear her out. Even so Linandir tried to ignore her and walk nonetheless, and ended up dragging her like a prisoner's fetterlock on several meters. It was almost comical on the outside, but it was only annoying for the one dragging the fetterlock.

«Fine then! Tell me whatever you want to tell and let me go!»

«Ah!-er, thank you.» The mysterious girl let go of Linandir's shirt and stood up to face him. «Allow me to present myself, my name is Adrianne Lemeloc!»

«Nice to meet you; goodbye.»

With this, Linandir turned around and walked away from Adrianne, who didn't understand immediatly. But as soon as she did, she hold onto her foot and he dragged her with an impression of déjà-vu.

«W-wait! I'm not done!»

«Then what do you want!»

«I need your help! I'm new here and I lost my way.»

«Not my problem; I don't have time for this.»

He didn't want to admit he was lost as well. He got rid of the girl at his foot and tried to run away. And Adrianne ran after him.

«Why are you following me!?»

«Help me please!»

«I already said I don't have the time for this! I'm in a hurry!»

«But aren't you lost as well?!»

Linandir came to a full stop; Adrianne, on the other hand, was surprised to see him stop running all of sudden and didn't brake in time. The two collided again, this time Linandir being the victime.

«I'm sorry!» Adrianne apologized again as she stood up.

«Gu-…you klutz!» Linandir, who had landed hard on his butt, couldn't help muttering that. «What makes you think I'm lost in the first place!»

«Before the collision, I heard you crying 'Where am I', so I thought...» The black-haired girl fidgeted her finger with embarrassement.

«I'm not lost! I was just checking my location.»

«Then, can I follow you to find my way?»

«Rhaaa, just do what you want!» Linandir gave up on trying to get definitely rid of her.

He went back to his quest to find his classroom, without success. After half an hour hour searching through the whole building -and passing by some really shady places-, he fell to his knees while lamenting about the misery that had befallen him. When he turned around, he saw Adrianne, who had followed him faithfully, giving him a sympathizing look.

«I'm not lost!»

* * *

Three of the six heads of the Hydra Metali charged at Hatsuyo, whereas the latter was charging at Linandir. The samurai girl tried to stop her rush at once to dodge hem, but the momentum prevented her to do so. One of the 'spears' landed a successful hit and she was blown away. However, rather than being ripped apart by the blade, she was completely unharmed and got back up immediatly.

«Damn….I see. It must be that black armor she wears. If it's that resistant it will be a pain to kill her.» Linandir grumbled. «But it looks like she's a musclehead who can only charge at the enemy. If it's like this, I can…-!»

Linandir then noticed something he hadn't before: one of the spears of his Mysic Code -the one who had hit the samurai has lost its head as if it had been cut in two. When he looked at the spot where Hatsuyo had received the attack, he saw the snake-like head of the tentacle lying on the floor.

«Ah, how annoying.» The samurai girl muttered as she got up, and cast an angry look at Linandir.

«It can't be…You cut it at the same moment you were blown away!?»

«And you're next.»

Hatsuyo held her katana with both hands again and rushed at him as if she hadn't learned from her previous try.

(Damn it…! I made a mistake by underestimating her speed!)

This time, instead of just ordering the Hydra Metali to attack, Linandir crouched on the floor and had the spear-like weapons attack while making an horizontal movement. The result was a large-scaled whip attack which struck down all the trees in the area in front of Linandir. Yet, Hatsuyo saw the attck coming and jumped in the air. However…

«That's what I was aiming for!»

Once in the air, she had no way of escaping his attacks, and no matter how sturdy that armor was it would eventually break apart.

Linandir snapped his fingers and the 'spears' shot once again in direction of the airborne samurai.

* * *

Fortunately, they eventually managed to find their clasroom (and to find their way in this maze before dying of hunger, as a side note). And of course they were severely scolded by their teacher for being late. However, Linandir could tell there was a difference in the way they were being scolded.

Of course, the teacher roared at both of them, but it was clear that he was being softer on Adrianne. As it was their first day, there was little chance that the two were familiars, so Linandir came to the conclusion that she was simply from a better family than his. His huch turned out to be true later, as people in their class were trying to gain her favor. It was hard to picture this clumsy, afable girl as a being from a good family, but it was the case.

She seemed to have taken a liking into him as she was constantly sticking around him and trying to be with him when they had work to do in groups. But Linandir, on the other hand, was avoiding her as much as possible. Unlike the other, he didn't want any favor from a rich girl; it was his hard work that had him admitted in the Clock Tower in the first place, and he wanted to be recognized for it.

The other reason was that he simply couldn't stand her: people like her who came from good families just didn't understand the struggle of insignificants magi like him to produce results. Her carefreeness too angered him; it was as though she didn't understand what it meant to be a magus.

She looked like she thought that the fact they both got lost and met on their first day was a good reason to be friends, but Linandir didn't want to have anything to do with her.

And today was the same. They had to work in pair to prepare some kind of project. It would be quite the harduous work depending on what the project would be. And once again Adrianne came to ask him to team up with her.

«No can do.»

«Why?!»

«Because you're too clumsy for these kind of things, that's why.»

Usually, when he rejected her, Adrianne would start pouting and walking away at this point. But today, she didn't fall back and put on some kind of proud expression.

«Today will be different.» She looked like she was talking to herself. «I've learned from my defeats! I've already told the teacher we would work together.»

«You what?! Don't go and do that without my agreement! Damn it, I'll go tell the teacher it was a mistake.»

«No, you won't!»

Before Linandir could make a single step toward the desktop of said teacher, Adrianne delivered him a superb karate chop which had him fall lifelessly to the ground. Behind hr adorable face and gestures, Adrianne Lemeloc was actually a dangerous weapon of destruction.

«Ha! That way you wo… Eh, are you alright?!»

«Asiuhzdhiue...» Linandir could only mutter this nonsens as he was drooling on the hard floor.

«I-I'm so sorry! C-can you stand up?»

«Aaaaaaaa...Haaaaa!» Linandir gathered his strength and his will and manged to stand up shakily. «Alright, I get it! But I only accept if we follow my project!»

«Yaaaay -are you sure you're alright?!»

«Shuiehdiahiu...»

* * *

At his signal, the 'spears' left on stand-by pounded on Hatsuyo, who couldn't evade from where she was. But her stuation didn't seem to bother her in the least, or at the very least not more than it originally did.

Unsurprisigly, the attack landed once again -or so thought Linandir, but the samurai girl wasn't sent flying like she previously did. In an instant, she had stuck the blade of her katana in the 'neck' of the serpent-like weapon; as such, when the 'spear' came back to Linandir, so did she.

«What the…!»

Linandir didn't have the time to be surprised. All he had was the short time span between the moment she landed next to him and the moment she would withdraw the blade form the Hydra Metali. So, during that few seconds -he let go of the Hydra Metali which stopped floating and fell heavily on the floor; then he muttered a spell to enhance the strength in his legs, and jumped back as far as he could.

Finally, he held his open hand toward the Hydra Metali and gave it a last command:

« _Crepitus!_ »

Instantly, the Hydra Metali started to glow intensly and filled with prana. The next moment, all sound vanished when the Mystic Code exploded. Both of them were blown away, each in a different direction. However, unlike Hatsuyo, Linandir was ready and rolled on the floor to get up as quickly as possible, and proceeded to fall back.

Armor or not, the Master of Lancer of Red must have sustained some important damages from that explosion. He needed to use this gain of time to retreat and prepare some counter-measure.

* * *

From this point on, their collaboration was hard. As soon as she heard of Linandir's project, Adrianne tried to convince him that it was too hypothetical, but in vain; Linandir firmly refused to give up. After all, if it wasn't hypothetical there wasn't any point. Eventually, Adrianne stopped complaining and followed his lead.

It had been a huge mistake in the end.

At some point they had needed a material that was really hard to find, so the two of them had to go search for it by themselves. At this occasion Adrianne reiterated her doubts, but it didn't matter to Linandir at this point.

And that's why they came here, in a forest far from civilization.

«L-Linandir, it's starting to get really dark now! We should head back quickly or we might get lost.»

«Like hell I would go back before finding what we came here for! Dammit, why is it so hard to find some octuplet twin crystals!»

But Adrianne was right, the night was falling. No, scratch that, it was already night.

The only light visible in the whole forest was the torchlight in Linandir's hands. Since they hadn't planned on staying here until night, it was the only one they had. Each time the light it projected moved from one tree to another, the shadows of the forest grew bigger and more menacing. The temperature as well was now cold enough to give them goosebumps, and the wind created disturbing noises as it passed through the leaves and the bushes.

It was the perfect spot for a horror movie, and he had pretty much dragged Adrianne here by force. If he met with the him from that day, Linandir would probably feel like strangling him.

«Oh, I've had enough!» All of sudden, Adrianne snapped at him. «Why do you go so far for something you're not even sure will work?!»

«You don't understand: if it succeed, it could be a revolution of magecraft!»

«And why does it matter so much to you?! You could just go with something simpler so why do you have to do something you know will fail?!»

«And how do you know it will fail?! You haven't even tried.»

«Because it's logic! If it could work, someone would have done it before us.»

She was right; all in all, his plan had little chance of suceeding. If he had been reasonable, Linandir would have listened to her. But there was a feeling that crept up from within him, a feeling he had kept hidden inside him. It was frustration.

«It's night now; we should head back and think of something else.»

She tried to grab his arm to drag him away, but he refused to move an inch.

«No.»

«Why?»

When he heard this simple question, Linandir gritted his teetn and his fist tightened.

«Because that's the only way! You magi from good families definitely cannot understand how we feel!»

Idiot.

«Eh…?» Adrianne was taken aback by his sudden burst of anger, but there was something something else in her look. His words, which had come from the bottom of his heart, had stabbed into her.

«Yeah, you really don't get how it feels to be unable to achieve anything just because of a difference in birth! You never have any problem getting results or achieving good grades, you don't understand how hard we have it! Either we have some talent, either we're useless! If you thought you were showing me some pity by hanging around me, then you clearly didn't get shit!»

Idiot. Idiot.

«….»

She couldn't reply. It was as if she had taken a heavy blow and that all the air in her lungs had been knocked out. Linandir couldn't see it because of the lack of light, but her eyes were starting to get teary. Even if he had seen it, it wouldn't have changed anything.

«I...»

«Spare me your excuses. If you want to mock me, do it openly!»

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot!

Linandir didn't even try to listen to her; he turned around and started running with all his might. He was running away, not as much to find these octuplet twin crystals than to run away from her. He didn't look back nor did he listen to the cries asking him not to go away. He ran. Ran whithout thinking. His head however was still focused on his search, so he searched. He looked everywhere: between the trees, under the rocks, and even inside a cave. But he didn't find anything. It was predictable; after all, he had just heard rumors.

But he refused to think that, so he kept on searching. He kept on searching….then what? She was right when she said it would probably fail. But even so, he kept on running around and looking desperatly for octuplet twin crystals. He kept on running, because a part of him wanted to prove her wrong. But it was all useless. If he couldn't even gather all the materials, he wouldn't even be able to know if he was right or wrong.

Eventually, he fell to the ground as he was running. It wasn't that his feet got caught into anything, nor was it because his legs were tired: he felt like the ground was shaking below him. It had been like this since he shouted at Adrianne; it was a miracle that he had been able to stand on his two legs and run around for so long.

He tried to stand up, but he failed and fell back on the ground. His whole body was trembling, but it wasn't because of the cold or the wind; he had just released feeling that he had kept locked inside him for a long time, so it was normal that his body would tremble because of the emotion. It might have been an exaggerated reaction from an objective point of view; after all, he simply had a ight with someone. These kind of things happen to everyone. But after shouting out loud this pent up anger and frustration, he was in an emotional mess.

It had been hours since he had splited from Adrianne. At any rate, it would soon be dawn. He couldn't stay here for all eternity, even he understood that. But he didn't feel like standing up anymore. He saw the dirt in front of his face darkening without a reason, then he understood that it was because of his tears.

«….sorry...»

Even if couldn't see her tears back then, he could easily imagine them running on her face. She was a clumsy and afable girl, so she would honestly show her feelings. She would never had shown her smile to him while thinking in her mind that he was miserable. She would never had, and yet he…

«…...I'm sorry...»

And yet he had shouted at her with all his rage and frustration, as if it was her fault that he felt this way. He had ignored that honest personality of her, even though he had known it was there. If he had wanted to talk about how he felt, she would probably have listened. She was too good a human being not to.

But it was too late.

«….I am so sorry...!»

Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!

In the end, the one who thought he was miserable was…...himself. He was frustrated not being able to achieve anything worthy of notice; he was angry at himself not doing better despite his efforts. And the only thing he did was using the one person who didn't care as a scapegoat.

«….!-»

Suddenly, he heard a noise in the bushes nearby. Someone was approaching.

(It can't be…)

Linandir stopped trembling immediatly and rose to his knees to look at the one emerging from the shadows of the trees.

«Adria-….!»

Of course she wouldn't come back for him. It would be naive to think that after what he said to her.

But he didn't expect this strange guest.

A silvery fur, two glowing eyes and white fangs shining in the moonlight.

The one who found him was a wild wolf!

«Shit!»

Linandir immediatly forgot about everything else and started to run in the opposit direction. He was in such a hurry that he dropped his torchlight in the process and didn't walk back to retrieve it.

As he ran away, he heard the wolf behind him howl. As soon as it did, Linandir heard several other wolf moving around the bushes in all directions around him!

«Dammit, dammit, dammiiiiiiiiitttt!»

All in all, he was a pretty good runner. In a normal speed chase he would be able to shake off his pursuers. But here he was up against wolves, and rather hungry ones at that. Moreover he was himself very exhausted by his stupid action of running around aimlessly to find something that wasn't there. At the moment he was powered-up by a rush of adrenaline, but he didn't knew how long it would last. And he didn't even think about it; the only thought in his mind was: _'Ruuuuuuuunnnnn!'_

After running over a hundred-or-so meters, one of the wolves finally closed up with him and pounced on him. Linandir was pushed on the ground by the weight of the beast and landed on his back. Immediatly, the predator stood on top of him to nail him to the ground and closed its fangs on his arm.

Linandir let out a small scream of pain, but quickly put himself back together and applied his other hand on the wolf's belly.

« _Repellunt_!»

A red light ran across the worlf's fur and the alettr was pushed away as if an invisible force had struck him. With that Linandir was able to stand up, but his right arm was now covered on blood and marks of gnawing from the beast's jaws. Unfortunately, because of time lost in getting rid of the first wolf, the rest of the pack was dangerously close to the point where they could just jump at him to get him.

Linandir did his best to keep calm -or at least as calm as one one could be when the eyes of half a dozen wolves were staring at him while thinking he was tonight's dinner. Linandir reached his hand in the saddle back that was around his waist, and retrieved a single jewel from it. It was the only one he had at disposition, so he had better not miss his opportunity. The wolves were starting to close in on him, although they seemed warry of him because of what happened to their comrade; but that wouldn't last long.

As soon as he felt ready, Linandir turned his back to the pack for the second time and started running. But as soon as he did, of course, all the beasts rushed after him. But at the same moment he heard the noise of a dozen of paws battering the ground behind him, Linandir threw his jewel behind him as far as he could.

« _Fiat lux_!»

The jewel glowed an intense white light before exploding, this time unleashing a great falsh of light like a flash grenade.

Linandir made sure to look forward not to get blinded so he didn't knew the result of his attack, but he didn't have the luxury to look back and check. Hopefully, all of them had been blinded, at least temporarily. It was probably successful since Linandir was able to run over several hundred meters without any hindrance. But at any rate, the pack of wolf would get their eyesight back adn they would just have to follow the trail of blood he left behind to find him.

In other words, he needed to find a safe place where they couldn't reach him.

The problem was he didn't knew _where_ he was actually. That's why he needed to find a place high up to scan the area.

(...There!)

He eventually found a hill which looked high enough to have a good view of the surroundings. The slope was clearly never used by human feet as it was completely uneven and filled with weeds. He managed nonetheless to climb to the top, not without getting scrathes all across his arms because of the brambles though. Once at the top, he was able to look at the horizon all around him….and only found despair. There was no place one could call safe from wolves, and right in front of him was a large gorge that cut the forest in two. Everywhere he looked, all he saw was trees and the one direction he had been following since the beggining ended in a dead end. But he didn't have the time to lament about his misfortune -he heard the wolves actively searching for him down the hill.

«Khhhh,… That's my luck! Screw it all!»

He didn't have many choice by now. Retracing his steps was a big no because of the hungry wild wolves which were after him. All he could do was to border gully while praying he would eventually find a hidding place. But the moment he stepped on the hillside in front of the ravine, Linandir realized at his expenses that the dirt around this place was fragile. As a result, the ground crumbled apart under his foot and fell down the hill head first. After rolling down on almost fifty meters of rocks, pebbles and brambles, he finally reached the bottom of the hill. He tried to stand up, but when he put his weight on his left foot he felt an intense pain at the level of the ankle, indicating it was twisted.

The howling and the panting of the wild beast closing in on him were enough to persuade him to run despite the pain he felt each time he put his left foot on the ground. He was now running on the border of the gully, which was on his left. On his right, however, another hill was acting like a wall along the side of the ravine. Simply put, this place was like a long one-way hallway. On the one hand, that meant the wolves could only come from one direction -that is to say from behind. On the other hand, that also meant he wouldn't be able to escape from them for long in a straight line.

He eventually heard the beasts not to far behind him, and the end of this hallway was still too far. Because of his twisted ankle, he was now slower and, inevitably, the wolves caught up with him. When he looked back to see how many there were, he noticed that there were only two of them right behind him; the rest of the pack was much farther behind.

(I can make it if I get rid of those two.)

Where he was now, Linandir had nothing to lose and his body was enhanced by a blinded courage. He had no choice: make it or break it.

He turned around to face the two hungry wolves, when one of them jumped at him. Like with the first wolf, he fell on his back because on the animal's weight; except this time he felt a sharp pain on his back, probably a stone which cut into his shoulder. At any rate he didn't have the time to worry about that: the claws of the wild animal were causing him a pain far greater and scarier. With all the strength he had left, Linandir gave a strong kick in the wolf's stomach with his right foot. The energy of despair played in his favour this time: he put much more strength than he thought he had in his kick, and the wolf flew into his fellow wild beast and both plunged to their death into the deep ravine.

Linandir had to get back up before the wolves left could get to him, but he did so laboriously. His body was convered on injuries, some more severe than the others, and his adrenaline was sarting to vanish from his body.

He managed to jog weakly to the other end of the hallway-like path, but he had barely made three steps out of it that he fell to the ground.

He had no strength left to spare.

He simply could move anymore.

Thus, all he could do was giving up. He gave up and used what little energy left he had to turn around and look at death arriving on him.

«In the end, I guess that's my reward for being an idiot...» His hazy and exhausted mind had this single ridiculous thought, but it helped him accept his fate a little more.

The wolves were only fifteen meters away or so from him.

On the second thought, he didn't want to see death in the eyes, so he closed his. His body was so exhausted all he wanted was to rest; that's what he did. He closed his eyes and lied on the floor like an old man waiting for old age to take him away from this earth. He heard another wolf coming from the direction he was walking in.

«He, so even if I was able to walk I would have been caught by that one...»

It should happen any time now. At any minute, the wolves would start tearing him apart. He tried not to think about it. Though, they were taking their time -they weren't far away, yet they still weren't on him.

«….Heh...?»

When he opened his eyes, Linandir saw the wolves standing there, exactly where he saw them for the last time and looking at him with greedy eyes, but they seemed to refuse to take a single step forward.

It took Linandir a good ten seconds to understand what was happening.

«...Bounded Field?»

He turned his head around to look at the 'wolf' that came from behind. There he saw her, keeling down and panting heavily.

«…...Adrianne…?»

«Are you * _pant_ * alright, * _pant_ * Linandir?» Adrianne was desperately trying to catch her breath. Most likely, she had been running around as well to find him.

«...You came back.»

«Of course * _pant_ * how was I supposed to leave you alone here?»

These words, as well as her mere presence here caused tears to stream down from his eyes. When she walked up in front of him, he couldn't help but cry even more. He was practically prostating in front of her, sobbing as he tried to apologize.

«...* _sob_ * I-* _sob_ * I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...* _sob_ * * _sob_ *… Thank you…»

«….Linandir.»

When he heard her calling his name with a neutral tone, Linandir looked up at her face. It wasn't the awkward and confused expression she wore during their first encounter, but a serious, almost authoritatian expression he had never seen before. The next instant, he heard a loud noise and, first thing he knew, he was now looking at his left; his right cheek was throbbing. Adrianne had put enough strength in her slap that he could have fallen over.

«That's for running away all alone and not listening to me.» She said in a tone befitting her expression. «I hope you didn't think you would escape your punishment for that. The next time you do something like that, it won't just be a slap!»

Linandir didn't reply; all he could do was looking blankly in front of him. His disbelief wasn't due to the fact Adrianne had slapped him, but to what she said to him.

('The next time'?….)

Tears ran again down his face.

He was thanksful. Thanksful that she still wanted to have something to do with him, enough that there could be a 'next time'. He cried and clung to her like a child to their parents. Adrianne was visibly surprised of his reaction and didn't knew how to deal with it because she immediatly changed back to her usual awkward and clumsy self.

«H-he? Wait, how am I supposed to be a-angry if you cry like that?» She looked left and right like a helpless person with a bomb in their hands. «C-could it be I hit too hard? That's what it is, isn't it?! I'm sorry, I'm-»

Apparently, she had interpreted him crying being due to her slap. Had he been in a better emotional state he would have felt insulted that she could think he would cry for so little.

«...no * _sob_ * Thank you….for coming back.»

Linandir did his best to stop his sobbing and put himself back together. He tried to stand up, but then his left foot reminded that he just had an intense chase with a pack of wolves. Though strangely, he wasn't as happy to have survived than to know she didn't hate his guts.

«A-are you alright?!» Adrianne panicked when she saw him wince because of the pain he felt in his left ankle.

«Ah, don't worry. I just twisted my ankle.»

«What are you saying?! You're covered in injuries! W-why didn't you tell me earlier?!»

Adrianne helped him stand up and told him they had to move to somewhere they could sit so that she could take care of his injuries. She also helped him walk, his exhaustion and the pain in every part of his body not allowing him to merely walk beyond a few steps without someone's help. Linandir has never been so happy to feel the warmth of another human being.

At the same time he felt his consciousness faltering. Now that he thought about it, he didn't get a single minute of rest for the whole night and had been tiring himself instead. His sleepless night and his marathon through the forest were coming back at him all at once and slowly putting his into sleep.

«Adrianne, did you sleep tonight?»

«H-he? Ah, I tried to rest a little, but it took time to find where you were. Are you tired?»

«...Yes.»

«Don't worry, once we're arrived I'll let you sleep.»

«Arrived where?»

But his question was quickly answered: by following the border of the gully, they eventually arrived at some sort of pointy cliff. There, there were several rocks big enough to sit. Adrianne helped Linandir to sit on one of them carefully, then she sat next to him.

She put her bag down on her knees and plunged her hand inside. To Linandir's surprised, she retrieved actual first-aid equipment.

«I didn't know you had this kind of thing on you.»

«I'm just well prepared. Now stop moving or it will just hurt more.»

The two kept silence as she treated him. Linandir was too tired to talk without reason, and Adrianne was too focused on her task. When she was finally done she let out a big sigh of relief and put the first-aid material back in her bag.

«Ah, about your project-»

«I give up. You're right when you say it has little chance to be right. To be honest, all I ever try to do is just an utter failure. I'm a failure as a magus.»

«But it doesn't matter, right?»

«Of course it matters, what are you-!» Linandir interrupted his sentence midway. When he saw her smiling face, he understood what she meant.

«It doesn't matter if you're a capable magus or not. In the end, Linandir is Linandir, right?»

«….» It was his turn to let out a big sigh. «I can't beat this logic.»

Then, slowly, they both started to chuckle, a chuckle which quickly evolved into an uncontrolable laugh. When they finally stopped laughing, they were holding their sides so hard they could break.

«Seriously, a lot of things happened in one night.»

«Indeed, ahahaha!….Ah, look Linandir!» Adrianne pointed at the horizon. «The sun is rising! I never thought I would one day watch the sun rise in the middle of a wild forest.»

She was right; far above them, the sky was divided between the darkness of the night, fading away, and the gentle colors of the morning sky. At the horizon, a flame was slowly rising up in the sky, tainting the world with pink, red and orange; it's arrivial put an end to the cold night where he almost died, as if to say everything was going to be okay.

Before, Linandir had never given much attention to the sunrise, if any at all. But right now, he honestly thought with all his heart that it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Or, maybe it was because of his hazy and sleepy mind, but he found something that was even more beautiful than the sunrise. It was the girl sitting right next to him.

* * *

«Somehow this takes me back.»

Linandir was running away frantically from the area where the Hydra Metali self-destructed. He wasn't giving up on the fight, and anyway he doubted his opponent would let him get away so easily. But he needed to keep some distance to get ready.

«But you're not as scary as a pack of hungry wolves!»

Eventually, he stopped running and crouched behind a tree. After looking in direction he was coming from, he could hear the samurai girl growling from afar. Surely she must be pissed that someone could send her flying in such a manner.

(She really is sturdy though; that was no small explosion.)

It seemed his fate was closely connected to life and death situation in wild forests. This time, however, he was prepared to face his opponent. Linandir took out something no one would have expected a magus to use: a handgun. Linandir himself wouldn't have ever used one a few months ago, but in this situation it came in handy to say the least.

He had made a huge mistake by underestimating her speed and resistance, and he was now paying the price for it. On the other hand, he now had an advantage: he had managed to get away sufficiently to ambush her. Moreover, he should be able to do something about that black armor of her; the bullets loaded in this gun were made specially for the Holy Grail War.

«…...She's coming.»

He could hear her getting closer. It wouldn't exact to say he could hear her steps; it sounded much more like she was smashing and stomping on everything on her way. Obviously she didn't care about stealth.

«Where are you hiding, you coward!» Hatsuyo's ragefully voice was really close. From the sound of it, he would say around thirty meters. «The longer it takes me to find you, the more you'll suffer!»

Linandir has sadly no way of knowing if he had a clear view to shoot her unless he got closer. He let the cover of his tree and jogged in Hatuyo's direction. Just as he feared, it would be hard to aim at her with this vegetation; he had to get closer.

«But of course the closer I get the more dangerous it gets.» He grumbled.

It was all or nothing.

(This takes me back too!)

Linandir took cover again behind a tree. There she was. She had stopped moving around, visibly aware of the tension in the air. She was holding her katana tightly and looked ready to attack. In other words, Linandir would only have one chance to take her down. But he was confident; even if she was fast, there was no way he could dodge a bullet.

Linandir counted to three in his head before emerging from behind the tree; the Master of Red was turning her back on him, which allowed him to take time to aim. He was no expert shooter but he had the occasion to train. Unfortunately…

«-!»

At the last second, Linandir inadvertently stepped on a dead tree branch. It didn't make that much noise, but for the samurai girl who was on the alert, it was a fatal mistake. Hatsuyo turned around abruptly at the same time Linandir shot and the bullet missed her chest, instead lodginf in her shoulder; the black metal protecting her shoulder was no match for the bullet, as expected.

But it had missed.

Hatsuyo gitted her teeth to ignore the pain, and closed the distance between them in a second. Her left shoulder was now unusable so she was wielding her katana with her right hand only, but it didn't make it any less deadly. Fortunately it seemed Linandir had a talent to stay focused during life-threatening situations. He barely had any time to dodge but he managed to take a step aside, thus avoiding certain death. The attack still landed though, and the blade slashed his left arm as well.

(An arm for an arm, huh? Kh...gha!)

Linandir put all his will into taking a step forward; it only a single step, but because of her momentum Hatsuyo was now behind him. He focused and used the same spell as earlier to make his legs faster and ran as fast as he coud. He had dropped his gun in the process, so he was now practically harmless. The only thing he could do was what he did the best: running.

(Dammit, why is it that it's the only thing I can do in this kind of situation?!)

But he had nothing better to do, so he ran.

* * *

Unsurprisingly after this event, their relationship changed. Or rather, Linandir changed.

He decided to crack open his icy carapace and to accept the warmth of the sun. It didn't affect only his relationship with Adrianne, but also his relationship with the rest of the world. He wanted to change, in a way. But not as much for himself than for someone else.

After the events of this night, they did return to the cliff where they beholded the sunrise together once. It had become some sort of ritual for them. Of course afterward they were prepared to face wof attacks, but they didn't even have to face any. It felt as though life had wanted to teach him something this one fateful nigh.

Linandir had started to see Adrianne as more than a faithful friend. It wasn't only love; there was a part of admiration in him. She was like a sun to him. She was too bright for his eyes, yet at the same time she was the most important being in the world for him.

And then, a look; a bit of courage; a few words; a smile.

* * *

«Don't think you can get away again!»

(She is way faster than me...!)

Linandir kept running without thinking too much, but it wouldn't last for long. Lancer of Red's Master was faster than him by a margin. The only reason he had been able to run this far is because he had tricked her a few times along the way, but even that wouldn't be enough.

What is more, he didn't even know where to go! He could feel Rider was alive but he had sunk in the see with his boat and hadn't surfaced since then. It seemed he refused to answer to his mental calls as well. He only had one Command Spell; if he used it to summon Rider, the latter would kill him for sure afterward.

Linandir was running aimlessly, but it was the best he could do.

* * *

Unfortunately, the sun has to set eventually.

«What...did you say?» Linandir's heart skipped a beat when he heard the news.

Right now he was on the phone with one of his friend. As you could guess with the tone he was using, he wasn't just calling to say hi. Said friend just called Linandir to tell him about something unexpected.

«Adrianne…..is getting married?»

«Yes.» The voice on the phone confirmed. «Adrianne told me about it just this morning, but as I thought she didn't told you. This girl...» The girl on the other side of the phone sighed heavily.

«…...»

«Hey, Linandir. I can guess your shock, but you better not lose a minute to speak to her.»

«….Yeah, you're right.» Linandir agreed but he could barely muster any strength in his voice. After taking a few seconds to digest the information, he finally understood the gravity of the situation. «Thank you, Diana! If you hadn't told me, I would never had known. You're right, I have to speak with her.»

«Wait, Linandir!» Diana asked him just as he was about to end the call.

«What is it?»

«You probably know it, but there is little you can do about it. You know Adrianne isn't that kind of person, if she could have refused she would have.»

«...That's why, I have to speak with her quickly.»

Linandir finally ended the call. Then, he called Adrianne's number. But after ringing a few times, all he heard was her answering machine. He tried a second time but obtained same result. After a third failure, he threw his phone at the wall of his room in frustration.

«Are you ignoring me on purpose?!»

 _'Adrianne will marry soon'_

Linandir had done his best to keep his head cool and think about it calmly, but little by llittle this sham of placidity was falling apart. He couldn't ignore his own feelings any longer.

In a word, he was devastated.

Arranged mariage wasn't rare within the Mage's Association, especially in the nobility. These were more political moves than anything else actually, so of course the likes of Linandir had little chance to be victim of it. They were just that insignificant. On the other hand, the Lemeloc family having a pretty good status, it wasn't surprising that Adrianne was proposed to.

He wanted to yell at the clouds, but he knew it wouldn't help in any way, except make him even more aware of how desperate he was. Yet, at the same time, this emotion inside his chest gave him enough strength to proceed with his own execution. Even if he knew this day might come, he had just prayed for it never to. He was just powerless.

«If she refuses to answer to my number, then I'll have to use a public phone!» He shouted to give himself a false courage and energy and ran in the street to the closest telephone booth.

He dialed the Adrianne's number again, and this time he heard a small voice answer to him.

«Who is it? If it's a commercial call please hang up.»

Adrianne sounded tired. It was clear she had cried a lot.

«It's me.»

She probably recognized his voice, and Linandir understood she would hang up immediatly.

«Wait, don't hang up! Please listen to me!»

«….»

There was no answer, but since she hadn't ended the call it meant she accepted his request. Yet, Linandir couldn't say anything afterward.

There was too many thing he wanted to say, some contradictory and some meaningless. He knew a part of him was angry, but he couldn't shout at her, especially after hearing her voice; he had already learnt in the past how stupid it was to pick on someone who wasn't to blame.

They stayed a few minutes without talking, just listening to each other's breath.

Linandir was leaning against the wall of the phone booth. The many noises of the city could be heard from outside, but none managed reach his ear. He felt like the rest of the world had disappeared around him. There was just him, her and the phone.

In this situation where neither of them would say something, it felt like time was suspended. But outside of their universe time was still running. It was Linandir who spoke first.

«Diana told me everything.»

«...I didn't want her to.»

«I know, I…wished she didn't tell me now. But it is too late for that now.»

«I...»

She tried to say something but couldn't continue her sentence. Linandir understood she had started crying again. He wanted to cry too, but he refrained from doing so.

«You don't need to say it. I understand.»

«….I'm sorry….»

«I'm the one who should sorry. Even in this situation, I'm useless till the very end.»

Both of them knew. A typical twist in medieval folktales and dramas would have been to elope together, but it was impossible in a society like the Mage's Association. They would have many enemies who they wouldn't be able to fend off indefinitely. Linandir was ready to do that if she asked him to, but Adrianne wouldn't want for his safety. She was ready to do so if he asked her to, but Linandir didn't want to for he knew she couldn't bear such a life.

They both knew the other would risk their like for the other, but they didn't want to risk each other's life. It was ironic, in a bad way.

«I wished we could just keep talking to each through this phone forever...»

«But that's impossible, isn't it?»

«Yes.» For some unknown reason, a pitiful chuckle escaped Linandir's mouth after Adrianne finished his sentence. «You know, I've always been useless in whatever I tried to do, even in my confession to you. I'm really sorry for that.»

«I didn't mind. Even if rarely succeeded in anything you undertook, you put so much effort in it each time that I couldn't help but be in awe for your determination. No matter how many time you failed, you wouldn't give up. I on the other hand…I'm clumsy. Horribly clumsy. When you confessed to me, I didn't know how to react and I almost fell off the cliff, remember?»

Linandir remembered clearly this day, and this now sweet yet bitter memory brought a weak smile upon his lips.

«I remember. But I liked that part of you; you weren't the kind of person to hide anything behind her smile and it's that which made me realize how wrong I was about everything. I can't thank you enough for being clumsy.»

«...Thank you.»

A strange feeling rose in Linandir's chest. It was extremely painful and it felt like his heart was impaled by a lance. But at the same time, he felt unnaturaly calm.

«Sorry, I'm just making it harder, aren't I. I guess it's time, I didn't put enough money in the machine to keep on any longer.»

«Don't say goodbye.»

«Yeah, it's not like we will never see each other. We will meet again.» Linandir was trying to be optimistic, but there was no conviction in his voice.

He ended the call. It was sudden, but it was easier this way. He put back the telephone.

And then he fell on the floor.

All the tears he had managed to hold back during the conversation poured at once when his butt touched the floor. His heart was calm but sorrowful; he needed to cry. So, while holding his knees with one arm and putting the other hand on his forehead, he cried. The passer-bys looked at him strangely, but he didn't pay them any heed.

But even after his tears dried, he still felt the same way. Childishly, he thought to himself that life was cheating. Normally it's easier to accept your sadness after crying, but there it cheated and he still couldn't get over his feelings.

 _'No matter how many time you failed, you wouldn't give up.'_

«But what can I do?» He asked rhetorically. He knew there was nothing he could do.

To get out of this situation, he would need a miracle…

(A miracle…?)

But what was a miracle? It was something you couldn't achieve no matter how hard you try.

«Well, ain't it a coincidence.»

Linandir swept his hand across his teary face, and he gathered all his strength to stand up.

«I just happen to be used to chase after miracles!»

He stepped out of the telephone booth. There was no miracle inside it, so he stepped out. He looked defiantly at the sky, turning his sorrow and despair into determination.

 _'Don't say goodbye.'_

«I know. If there's a miracle somewhere that would allow me to turn things back…» He clenched his fist as hard as he could, so hard he felt his nail eating into his palm. «I'll chase it and find it!»

* * *

Little by little, the trees disappeared.

Linandir's footsteps had to cease has well.

By running forward, he eventually reached the border of the island. Ironically enough, this was the place from where Linandir had watched the fight between Rider of Black and Saber of Red. The small cliff offered a beautiful view on the waves breaking calmly against the coast and the horizon. A gentle wind was blowing and softly caressed his face, as if to comfort him from reaching a dead end.

«Until the bitter end, huh?» Linandir smiled wryly. «It's not like I had any hope of going through until the end but...»

His knees failed him and he fell to the ground. He was in a pitiful state, quite reminiscent of back then: his left arm had a bloof red line across it and refused to move properly; his body was covered on small and insignificant sword cuts.

He raised his valid arm and reached out his open hand toward the horizon.

«...I'm really powerless until the very end.»

His voice was coarse; he might have shed a tear in this instant, if his body wasn't completely dry since long.

Behind him, he hears the footsteps of the grim reaper approaching slowly and calmly. He didn't look back to look at her; he didn't care about looking at death in the eyes. He wasn't able to keep his promise until the end.

«I told you you would only suffer more the more you run. Are you an idiot?» A ruthless voice raised.

«Yes.» He whispered in his breath. «I am an idiot.»

His arm was still raised and his hand still stretched out, though he didn't knew what he was waiting for.

Then, he understood.

At the horizon, the sky was quietly cloring with pink, orange and red, and a gentle flame rose in the sky. Yes, it looked just like the first time they watched it together. But this time, no one would come to save the pitiful him; he was supposed to be the savior this time around.

«But I'm too useless to be even that, huh?»

A strange feeling filled his body just by watching the sunrise. It was a feeling called courage, which he had lacked back then.

The wind carried a voice he hadn't forgotten.

 _'No matter how many time you failed, you wouldn't give up.'_

«Yeah.»

Linandir put strength -no, courage in his legs and slowly stood up and turned around to face his opponent.

There she was. She hadn't moved from where she stopped, has if she had been waiting for him to be ready to die. Her expression was the same: annoyed and deadly serious. Just like him she had one arm which couldn't move as well because of the gunshot in her shoulder.

He had no weapon, but that didn't mean he had to wait for death without struggling.

«What's with you?» Hatsuyo asked to the Linandir standing bravely in front of her.

«I can't die here. I can't possibly give up here, not after all I have done to come this far.» He roared to show his resolve, but also to keep the courage in his heart strong. «There is something I have to do, so I'll beat you here and keep on until I have reached my miracle!»

Linandir clenched his fist as hard as he could, ready to punch her to death with it if necessary. Fearlessly, he took off in direction of the grim reaper while roaring to give himself strength.

«Huuaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!»

«Like I give a damn.» Hatsuyo's expression didn't change in front of the sudden change of behavior of her target. She raised her sword, ready to welcome him.

* * *

A figure was walking quietly through the woods, holding a sword in their hand.

She was Toriyama Hatsuyo.

She was walking away from the scene of Rider of Black's Master's final fight. Her black armor and her clothes were splattered with dark red blood, and her blade as well was covered on the hot red liquid. As a mtter of course, this wasn't her blood. She didn't suffer any injury other than the gunshot and the explosion that happened earlier.

Or rather, yes there was one -a big bruise on her cheek.

This idiot fought until the bitter end, even after she cut off both his arms. He only stopped struggling around after she cut his head, which had rolled over and fallen into the sea.

«What was with him, getting pumped up all of sudden.» She complained lightly, as if it was something she barely cared about. « _'Something I have to do'…_ Ridiculous.» She gritted her teeth lightly. «If it forced you to go on until your death…you should just _cut it down_.»

* * *

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _A chapter focused on Linandir's backstory…and his death. Many of you must be surprised that I decided to kill a character so early, but I think you can understand my choice. I want to clarify something with you: because a character has a chapter focused on them does **NOT** mean they are going to die anytime soon._

 _This chapter was hard to write, mainly because it has a different feeling than the rest of the serie so far, leaving out the epic fights between mythological figures to give way to a more emotional tone. I hope Linandir's story didn't feel rushed and that you could feel a minimum of sympathy for him before he dies. What is going to happen to Rider of Black now?_

 _Once again, thank you for reading this chapter! Don't hesitate to review, comment or ask a question!_

 _As a side note, the next story I'll write isn't another chapter of Fate/Rongodamiant but the prologue for another serie. Comedy lovers be ready._

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	11. Chapter X

**Chapter X: To Run Astray Is The Only Right**

* * *

It was at the moment when the Rider of White's flying fortress fired toward and destroyed his Diana Nemorensis. The moment when Rider of Black -Caligula sank into the cold seawater and indulged in crazy thoughts.

It was at this moment that he saw it in the distance, illuminated in the intense light emitted by the giant floating Noble Phantasm; and it had been enough to pique his curiosity.

It was at this moment Rider of Black saw the hole.

It was a quite large hole, dug into the sidewall of the nameless island. It had attracted his curiosity because it didn't look like just any hole; first of all, it was the only one of its kind where Rider was looking and it was strangely circular. It didn't look like it had been chiseled by human hands, but it was still strange enough for Rider to decide to swim all the way over there and take a look at it.

Once up close, he noticed it was not as finely carved as he had expected, but in fact quite rough on the borders, as if someone had excavated it barehanded without cleaning up afterward. The flying fortress had probably moved somewhere else because the great lighting it provided had disappeared. As a result, Rider hadn't been able to tell what was inside -not that it would have been of any help though, as it wasn't just a hole but an actual tunnel.

This fact achieved to tease his curiosity (he was crazy, not stupid) and he had decided to follow it up until wherever it led to. Being a Servant came in quite handy in these situation as he could hold his breath much longer than normal humans. As a side note, Rider never knew how to swim during his life, he was only able to doit now thanks to his Imperial Privilege skill.

But these hadn't been the thoughts filling Rider's head at this moment. Back then, he had just been swiming with an irresistable urge to know what was at the other end of this tunnel -his greed had been motivating him to get his hands on whatever was there.

Of course, there was no guarantee that he would find anything. Rider couldn't know about it, but this tunnel he was exploring was the result of a perfectly natural phenomenon: lava tubes. During an eruption, there was a chance for flowing lava to dig in the ground, creating a thick and hard crust in the process. And once the eruption had ended and the lava flow had stopped, all that was left was a bunch of large tunnels, forming to gether a channel of caves like a huge natural maze.

It was one of those that Rider had entered. Thus, it was as no surprise that he had eventually reached a fork, and then another one and so on. But it didn't mater in the end how many different galleries and intersections there were: they all eventually led to the same place. Rider had immediatly understood he had reached his destinatin when the size of the cave he was swimming through suddenly widened to become an open space like a lake. There were many stalagmites at the bottom of the dark water as well, waiting to impale unfortunate swimmers on their shapr end.

But another sign had been the reeal indicator of his success: it was the light. Up until now the stone hallways had been completely dark. But when he reached this wide underground lake, he caught a glimpse of a light at the surface. It wasn't like the light of the sun -moreover it was the middle of the night back then. It wasn't like the fake and pale light emitted by these things called 'lamps' which he had discovered after his summon.

No, it was something -a golden light compelling him to swim to the surface.

When he had finally surfaced, he saw it right in front of him. The cave he had arrived to was surprisingly wide, especially in heigth. It's shape was more or less circular and the feeling of width was further emphasized by the fact it was mostly empy. At the ceiling, stalagtites, but that was it.

However, it wasn't exactly empty: in the middle of the lake was a black rock formation similar to a small isle -the walls and ceiling were also black by the way. Said isle wasn't very big because most of the space was taken by a huge pillar of black stone going from the bottom of the lake to the top of the cave.

There it was, carved into this deformed pillar.

A golden object the size of his fist, alike to a big chunk of gold, was embbeded into the rock. The honey-colored light diffused by this mysterious jewels was enough to light the whole cave, casting strange shadows on the wall which created a feeling of infinity -as though there were no walls, only the kingdom of shadows engulfing this small surreal world.

But something made this out of the world sight even stranger, creepier and would send a chill up anyone's spine...

It was _pulsating_.

Like a heart beating fiercely, every second the chunk of gold pulsated inside its stone prison, sending a slight tremor through the golden veins running all over the pillar around the golden object.

The source of the conflict, the fragment from the Cup of Heaven - _the Grail Shard_.

The one standing in front of it, Rider of Black, had a large shadow cast behind him as he stood there, the latter emitting an ominous feeling as though he was the king of this world of shadows.

Even if it was by luck, he was the winner of this round and had found what they had been looking for; the Grail Shard. Yet, all of this was what happened before. Now, Rider wasn't looking at the Grail Shard anymore -he wasn't even paying attention to it anymore.

All of sudden, a loud roar of pure rage echoed in the lava tubes.

"Grraa...Grraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

The howl of anger resounded in the underground lake for a while, before disappearing. The scream had come from Rider of Black who was now baring his teeth and clawing at his own face like a madman, all while bending his body as though he was in deep pain. Blood started to flow down from the mutilated cheeks

In a way, it almost looked like he was crying tears of blood. However, what filled him was undisputably wrath in its purest form, and not sadness in any kind.

"You filthy wooooorm! How dare you! How dare you die before I kill you?! You! Damn! Useless! Worm!"

Each of his exclamations was punctuated by a punch in the ground, which made the wide cavern shake slightly each time. Eventually though, Rider stopped his crazy tantrum and stood back up. He started to look around him frantically with the eyes of a raging beast, as if he was looking for someone to beat up to vent up his frustration. But that wasn't Rider's intention:

"Incitatus! Come to me, Incitatus!"

As soon as he called him, the distant thunder of a horse's hooves could be heard in the distance. But soon enough, the noise got closer and a white horse adorned with rich decorations of gold and jewels emerged from the cave's wall, almost as if he had been waiting there crouching in the shadow.

Of course, between the boudaries of the cavern and the isle Rider was standing on, there was a wide stretch of water in which the horse should have sunk; yet upon touching the surface of the crystal clear water with his hooves, the gracious mount kept on galoping toward his master, ignoring the laws of gravity. Soon, the horse Incitatus had reched Rider and snuggled his head against Rider's chest. The latter caressed Incitatus' neckline contentedly, visibly happy that the horse answered immediatly to hic call.

"Ah, you're the only one I can count on, Incitatus. That useless piece of meat has gone ahead and died without my permission!"

Incitatus neighed to say he had felt it as well.

The person Rider was speaking about in such derogatory words was Linandir Eïchtobell, his Master. Just a minute ago, Rider felt the natural connection between a Master and its Servant disappearing, indicating the former's death. It was hard imagining Rider of Black -Emperor Caligula mourn anyone, especially someone whom he had barely known and had almost killed the very moment he summoned him. In fact, that might be the only thing the mad emperor was regretting inside him -that he should have killed him back then if he was going to die in such a useless manner anyway.

"Oh, whatever!" Rider howled. "There is more important, Incitatus! I need to take back my moon from that filthy thief!"

Incitatuc neighed to ask him how he was planning to do that.

"That is exactly the problem, Incitatus: I don't have enough prana! I had a feast earlier during the day, but it won't suffice."

The reason why Rider hadn't already started to fade away with his Master gone is because of the magical energy he had gotten from the massacre of the inhabitants of Candelaria, but it would barely be enough for maintaining a physical shape and Incitatus. Whatever scheme the mad emperor had come up with, he was unable to apply it without enough prana.

Actually, the Grail Shard right behind him would have been an excellent source of mana, for it was pumping a great quantity of it directly from the ley lines, but one would need to be of the Caster class to know how to drain it.

In other words, there was nothing Rider could do at the moment.

But that was when Incitatus started to 'speak'. When Rider heard him, he listened intensely at what he was saying. He was , after all, his consul. He listened patiently to Incitatus' arguments, which was a feat for someone like him. When the horse was done talking, Rider rubbed his chin and thought for a while.

Midway through his thinking, he turned toward the Grail Shard embedded in the stone and frowned.

"...Yes." After a long moment of silence, Caligula finally opened his mouth. "You're right, Incitatus! I shall do as you say!"

Then, he started to spin around with his arms spread and his burning gaze turned toward the ceiling, all the while laughing madly. It was like he could see the sky, the stars and the sun and the moon beyond the thick layer of hard stone, and laughing because it was all his. Yes, the whole world was his! His palace! His garden! His playground!

All the jewelleries in the world were his! All the women in the world was his! And the life and death of all those who populated his world were his to decide!

"Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! Hahahahahahahaah! I will show you, worms! I will take my revanche on all of you! On this knight and his cheeky Master! On the worm who dared steal my moon! I am Caligula! I am Jupiter!...No."

Rider stopped rotating on himself and clenched his fists, before spreading his arms again like someone would throw rice on newlyweds.

"I am the sun! Rejoice! Rejoice!"

* * *

*Shep* *Shep*

A small sound could be heard between the trees of the forest on the nameless island. It was the only thing that could be heard as all life forms -if there had ever been any form of life on this island- had fled as far as they could from the deadly battlefield.

It wasn't anything particular, neither unusual nor overwhelming -in fact, it was a very small sound that would be lost in a crowded area.

*Shep* *Shep*

A discret swish like that of a servant polishing the silverware in a rich manor. It belonged to none other than Lancer of Red's Master -Hatsuyo Toriyama.

The young girl was actually sitting on a fallen tree trunk from the battle between her own Servant and Archer of Black. All around her were other trees knocked over, cut in half or plainly smashed as a result of the mighty battle between the two Servants. In fact, although the situation had changed somewhat without Hatsuyo's knowing, the raging clatter of battle could still be heard in the distance, although faintly.

But it didn't change the fact that she was on a battlefield; the one-sided slaughter Hatsuyo had just taken part in was a violent evidence of it. Yet, the girl's expression was terribly calm despite her pitiful condition: even if it wasn't completely obvious, she had taken a lot of damage from her fight against Linandir; more than someone her age would be used to. For instance, her skin was covered on scratches, scrapes and superficial burnt. Taking an explosion head on had its consequences, although the armor Caster of Red had made for her had done marvels in this regard.

There was also a large bruise on her cheek; it was due to a punch Linandir had managed to land in his hopeless struggle. The black and purple mark looked like it would sting a lot, but Hatsuyo just ignored it. However, it was surely easier to bear than the bullet lodged in her shoulder. The latter was bandaged but Hatsuyo didn't have the practical knowledge nor the patience to pull it out. A simple gunshot would hurt atrocely, and the sweet running across her body showed that she couldn't ignore the pain.

In spite of all of this, her expression remained as calm as a millpond, her sharp gaze focused on her task.

*Shep* *Shep*

The swishing sound came from her washing the blood away from her katana's blade.

Her whole armor as well as a part of her face had blood splashed all over it, yet she was only focusing on her weapon with a care and a meticulousness one wouldn't expect from a the hot-headed girl. It was normal for a samurai to care a lot about their sword -it was a part of their pride as samurai. However, the sight of this girl quietly sitting and and cleaning her weapon despite being covered in blood -and this with a completely straight face was even more frightening than an executioner grinding his axe before the execution.

But there was no one around to point it out, and even if there was she pay it any heed. After all, she was the kind of person who didn't give a damn about what people thought of her, with a few exceptions.

Eventually, after not even the smallest black stain remained, she stood up and made a few swinging motion with one hand. Even with only one arm available, the katana's swift and accurate motions made it clear she was still just as proficient and dangerous than with both hands.

Then, after she stopped swinging the blade around, Hatsuyo displayed a satisfied expression and put it back in her scabbard, and started to walk away.

 _Lancer, are you done on your side?_

She asked her Servant through their mental connection. Last time she saw him he was fighting against another Servant and she had no idea of what happened in the meantime.

 _Well, how should I put it...I'm still fighting but this time I've teamed up with the guy I was fighting and our Saber to beat up a fourth guy. But things don't look good._

 _Saber...You mean this idiot's Servant?_

 _Oh, right. Saber said something like his Master was worried about you and was looking for you._

"That idiot is...?" Hatsuyo mused, and a hindered expression showed up on her face as she angrily bit her lower lips.

Now that she thought about it, it was true the person she had just killed seemed to suggest he had fought against that idiot. Also, when she had hunted Linandir down to the cliff where she killed him, she didn't see the huge ass boat that had been standing there before.

In that case, did that mean they had defeated the Servant on board of the ship? Thinking about this also made Hatsuyo reflect on her situation.

(I killed one of them. If the Servant also disappears once the Master is killed, then it's one less.)

But Lancer said there were two other Servants aside from him and Saber...Then there were still two more enemy Master on the island. They already didn't know how many opponents they would have to face befor ecoming here, but the situation was becoming more and more unclear. In fact, little did Hatsuyo know that things were confusing for all parties.

But she didn't care how many they were. In the end, she just had to cut them all down.

 _Oi, Master~. Why are you silent? Don't tell me you plan on coming to his rescue on a white horse and take him away in your arms. How romantic~!_

Hatsuyo could imagine Lancer grinning where he was now, which made her grimace even more.

 _Are you kidding? If this idiot wants to throw away his life, I don't give a shit. He's so anoying I'll just cut him down myself anyway._

She replied in a dry tone.

 _..._

"..."

Surprisingly, Lancer didn't answer with another snarky comment. Hatsuyo really didn't like not knowing what was going on on his side, but she couldn't do anything more than communicate through their mental bond. She trusted Lancer; if it was him he could beat anyone. But she hated the feeling lingering in her chest.

A feeling of ineluctability, as if something was going to happen and there was nothing she could do about it, no matter how much she wished she could.

But in truth, it wasn't anything vague like this. She knew very well what was about to happen, since she had agreed to take part in it.

"...Who's there?"

Suddenly, she froze. In a flash, the katana hanging at her waist was in her hand, the metal glittering at the morning light ready to drink blood again.

She had since long left the area where Lancer and Archer of Black clashed; thus there was a possibility for something or someone to hide behind each tree and each bush.

However, Hatsuyo had an 'instinct' with which she could feel people's presence. It wasn't anything as accurate as tracing a trail of prana, so she could only feel that 'there was someone around'.

"If you don't show up I'll just look for you and cut you down." She threatened, her blade raised and reflecting the sunlight as if baring its fangs.

"How ironic. I said something similar just a moment ago." An unknown voice rose from somewhere on her left, and Hatsuyo immediatly changed her posture to attack the source of the voice.

On the other hand, the person who had just answered her threat were neutral, neither afraid nor carefree. It was a woman in her late thirties with short red hair (though that hard to tell -something unnerving about magi is that they never looked their age). She was only wearing a tank top, yet the latter was drenched by her sweat. Taking a closer look, the woman was leaving a small trail of blood behind her and there were beads of sweat running down her forehead, making one question her state.

But honestly, Hastuyo didn't fare any better.

She glarred at the woman she had never met before -Elena Bujart.

"Who are you bastard?"

"...He, I thought you'd know better. I am Archer of Black's Master, that's all you need to know."

"Ho? Then you are allied with the moron I killed earlier. Did you come to take revanche for your fallen comrade?"

"Ha! Fallen comrade? Don't make me laugh, do you really believe there's such a thing as comeradship in this war?"

Elena seemed to find the idea amusing and chuckled. But she was right: Leonidas and Michael Argas may be an exception because they were close relatives, but everyone else in this Holy Grail War weren't working together because they wanted to and they would be at each other's throat eventually anyway.

"Like I care." Hatsuyo put an end to their small chat. "It doesn't change the fact you're in my way. I'll cut you down...!"

* * *

Just as Lancer has said, things didn't look good in their fight against Rider of White.

Lancer was moving across the incenerated battelfield with the speed and the grace of a feline while Saber of Red was locked in an exchange of blows with Rider of White. Skill-wise, Saber had the upper hand and he actually took little damage, but because of Rider's astonishing regerative abilities it didn't matter. In fact, Rider was at least as skilled a warrior as Saber, if not more. Normally, someone of his level shouldn't have any problem avoiding Saber's sword. The reason why the knight of the sword was able to inflict him so many wounds was because Rider didn't bother to guard against his blows; no matter where he struck -chest, heart, head- any attack Saber landed on the knight of the mount healed up immediatly.

The other reason they were able to keep up against the Rider of White was because of Lancer of Red. The spearman surpassed even Rider in term of speed and agility, which allowed him to approach Rider up close and lacerate him with his spear without taking damage in return. Yet, that was the best he could do; the result was the same than with Saber.

On their side was also Archer of Black, who was staying back from the fight and sniping Rider with a frightening accuracy. Even with Lancer and Saber in the way, the bowman was still able to effortlessly shoot Rider's vitals.

They were Servants of the three Knight Classes reputed to be the strongest, yet even with the three of them they were still at a crushing disadvantage.

"Hahahahahaha!" Rider laughed at their fruitless efforts while pulling out Archer's arrows from his body and throwing them aside. "Is that all you have to oppose after daring to stand in my way?! Not enough!"

Rider switched his battle axe for a strangely shaped spear and bolted toward Lancer. The two spears clashed with great violence and Lancer blown a little further away by the strength of the blow. But as soon as his feet touched the ground, the spearman closed the distance between them instantly and swung his spear in a perfect circular arc at Rider's throat. The latter blocked with his own spear and aimed for Lancer's head with the sword in his left hand. Lancer leaned his upper body frontward and avoided the sharp blade by a hair's breadth; but instead of falling back to gain more range, he did the opposite: at the same moment he dodged the attack, Lancer took a single step forward and penetrated Rider's range in such a way the latter couldn't use his spear. Yet, with the same ease than if he had been far from Rider, Lancer rotated his spear and cut off one of Rider's arm.

"Useless."

Rider of White didn't looked the least bothered in the world from losing one arm, and just let his lost limb regenerate. However, Lancer had that in mind when he sliced Rider's arm; what he had noticed after repeatedly slashing and hacking the knight of the mount so many times was that there was a short lapse of time between the moment he inflicted the wound and the moment the injury started to heal.

Using this very short amount of time before the arm grew back, Lancer stepped heavily on Rider's foot to prevent him from running away, and he thrusted his spear through his other arm. But Rider wasn't planning on falling back for so much; his left arm had already healed and was holding a sword again, ready to cut Lancer in half with it. However...

"Do not forget about me, Rider!"

Rider had been too ficused on Lancer and hadn't sensed Saber of Red approaching from behind. Before he could attack Lancer or even turn his head, Saber swung his golden sword horizontaly in a flash; the blade sank into Rider's flank and ate in his flesh. Saber put all his strength in his two hands to stab it further into Rider's body.

"Haa...!"

With the disgusting sound of metal slicing through flesh, Rider's torso was cut in half by the holy sword. At the same time, Lancer pulled his spear from Rider's arm and threw a powerful kick into his solar plexus.

"That's for making me run left and right, bastard."

Rider's upper body, now separated from its lower part, flew on several dozens of meters before landing heavily on the ground.

"Seriously," Lancer complained. "what do we have to do for you to stay dead? I'm not used to dealing with people who just won't die when they're killed."

"No, he must have a weak point." Saber objected. "If we can find it then we should be able to kill him for good."

"You little..." Rider growled

Unlike what Lancer and Saber had expected, Rider of White didn't regenerate his body from the upper part that Lancer had sent flying, but from his lower part. In other words, before they knew it Rider of White was standing right next to them while the old upper body started to vanish.

""!""

Lancer and Saber immediatly put a couple ten of meters between them and the Servant of White. The latter, his face distirted by anger, went after them without losing a second. He darted toward Lancer first and launched a barrage of attacks. The spearman parried each attack without difficulty and managed to keep a certain distance between them. As their weapons kept crossig paths, Saber joined in the melee just like before.

This time however, something strange happened: Rider's skin started to blacken more than before, and two big bulges appeared on his shoulder blades, like big bubbles of flesh ready to pop. The next moment, the two bulges exploded and a second pair of arms sprouted from Rider's back, holding a trident and a golden axe respectively. His body as well seemed to grow larger, and his eyes tainted with something inhuman like a red ominous glitter.

"Don't get cocky, humans." A rough voice came out of Rider's mouth. "As if puny humans could be stronger than me!"

This time, Rider's blows were stronger, as well as faster. Saber and Lancer could stand their ground even with this sudden rise in power, but not for long if all they did was just stand around. Rider kept swinging his four arms like guillotines, creating gusts of wind with each movements. Needless to say, each attack only missed the two Servants of Red by a small margin, and the best way for Saber and Lancer to keep up the fight was to move in circle around Rider's massive body and slash their opponent all while evading and blacking the onslaught of attacks coming from several directions. They couldn't evade all of Rider's strikes either, and from time to time some would land home and push them back, but it wasn't enough to make them lose their footing.

It was hard to tell what was the most impressive in this battle: was it Rider's relentless assault that made him look like a tornado, or was it Lancer's and Saber's incredible teamwork that allow them to face this storm of metal and death without getting in each other's way. In hindsight, it was more probably the bewitching dance-like battle which resulted from the two.

(Truly a fight worthy of legends.) Archer of Black thought honestly. (Such a shame there is no one to admire it).

But Archer wasn't going to just sit on the sidelines to enjoy the show.

He readied two arrows in his large black bow and aimed carefully at the trio of Servants fighting below. Then, after checking the opponent's position, the two arrows flew swiftly toward the Servant of White.

Rider, who had his hands full with Saber and Lancer, couldn't feel the attack coming and was surprised to see two black shadows pound on him and accurately pierce his two eyes. The unexpected attack caused Rider to hesitate for less than half a second -but it was largely enough for Lancer and Saber to make their move. The two warriors held their respective weapon with both hands and plunged them into Rider's black body. Saber stabbed into hin right lung and swung his sword uward, effectively severing two of Rider's arms; Lancer thrusted his spear into Rider's thight and cut off the leg.

The efficient teamwork of the three Servants had brought Rider of White to his knees, but it wasn't enough. Very soon, Rider's surprise turned into anger and with a rageful roar he regenerated his lost limbs, and stomped on the ground so hard the earth shook. Then, to make up for his obstructed vision, he exchanged his trident for a huge golden mace larger than he was; holding the giant weapon firmly, Rider swung it and spinned on himelf.

Lancer evaded the earth-shattering attack by leaping backward, but Saber didn't have the time to do the same and tried to block it with his shield. It was a mistake -the strike was so powerful Saber was mercilessly blown away, although he managed to keep a standing position.

Now that there was no one anymore around him, Rider seemed to calm down a little and pulled out the two arrows from his eyeballs.

"Dammit, we're not going anywhere." Lancer complained. "Oi, Saber! At this rate we'll still be at it tomorrow! Don't you have a Nobe Phantasm that could just disintegrate him completely~?"

"Even if that was the case, I wouldn't use it without my Master's approval."

"Hey, are you for real?" Lancer sighed at Saber's categorical reply. "But more seriously, I'm out of ideas. If even cutting him in two and beheading him won't work, how are we supposed to kill him?" They already had stabbed him enough times to kill an army, but Rider of White showed no sign of weakening, quite the opposite actually. "Maybe we could try to drown him. Can you even drown a Servant?"

"I don't think that will be necessary." Saber interrupted Lancer's musing. "If this regeneration of his is a Noble Phantasm, then he cannot be using it without a price."

Lancer had to admit Saber had a point there.

Aside from their superhuman specs, Servant had two kind of special abilities: their skills and their Noble Phantasms. However Lancer doubted any skill could grant such healing powers to the point where it would possible to grow back a head.

In other words, it had to be at least a Noble Phantasm. But just like Saber said, using a Noble Phantasm came with a price, namely a high prana consumption. Noble Phantasms weren't called a Servant's trump card for nothing, so such mighty powers necessitated a certain amount of prana to be materialized. Moreover, Servants were basically ghosts so giving them a physical shape cost prana as well; meaning, each time Rider of White grew back one of his limbs or healed an injury, he would use prana to replace the missing body part.

"In other words," Lancer resumed taking a fighting stance. "all we need to do is to cut the bastard in little pieces until he is out of prana, right?"

"Yes. However I doubt it will be easy."

Rider was clearly not to be underestimated if he could face three Servants and stand his ground. Moreover it looked like the more they annoyed him, the stronger he'd get; and that was without counting on the flying ship he had used against them previously. In fact, if he hadn't stepped down from it the battle would be much more one-sided.

Lancer glanced at the spear he held.

(...No, I'd just be wasting magical energy for nothing. I can kill him more than enough times the way I am.)

But suddenly, Lancer felt something.

"That guy..." He turned around to look at the tree from where Archer of Black had been sniping Rider up until now.

Just as he had felt, Archer wasn't there anymore and his presence was moving away.

Lancer didn't understand what was going on but he didn't make a fuss about it. From the beggining Archer's arrows had had little effect on Rider so it wasn't surprising for him to give up on the hopeless fight. Yet, Lancer couldn't help but have a bad feeling about this.

 _Lancer_ , then, out of the blue, he felt his Master calling him mentally.

 _What is it, Master?_

 _I need you to get over here right now._

What was going on? Lancer had no idea was happening on his Master's side, but if she requested his presence it coud be bad. In fact, it wasn't a request but an order so no matter how much Lancer hated to leave in the middle of a fight he had no choice but to obey.

That's why, he turned toward Saber and waved his hand with an apolegetic look.

"Haha, I'm sorry Saber. Oji-san had forgotten he had a date today~."

"Huh? Lancer?" Saber looked at Lancer with a confused look.

"So I'll be going now~. See ya!"

And with that, Lancer turned into spiritual form and disapeared.

Saber could just look at the Servant of the Spear vanishing into thin air with a dumbfounded look. Of course, now that both Archer and Lancer were gone, Saber was all alone up against the powerhouse that was Rider of White. Simply put, he was in deep trouble.

Yet, he didn't feel any resentment toward Lancer, who had left him for unknown reasons, nor was he afraid of facing Rider alone. But...

(Lancer...what is a _'date'_?) Saber couldn't help but wonder hopelessly.

Fortunately for him, the two Servants unexplicably leaving the battlefield seemed to have calmed Rider who looked at Saber with a look of pity and laughed at him.

"Hahahaha! Would you look at that, Red Saber! Looks to me as though you can't count on your allies. As expected of humans, running with their tails between their legs when they see they are in a hopeless situation"

"I do not mind." Saber replied in a neutral tone and pointed the tip of his sword in Rider's direction. "Whether I'm alone or not, I shall defeat you! In order to reach the Grail, I'll defeat all of my Master's enemies."

"I see, so you're nothing more than your Master's dog? I don't know what your Master is like, but he must have the presence of a king for someone like you to be so obedient."

"It doesn't matter." Saber told Rider off. "Whether my Master is a king or a child, it my duty as a knight to serve him."

"'Knight', you say. I cannot understand I must say; it is a concept that appeared after my time I'm afraid."

"Whatever. But if you put such priority in your Master's appearance, I must assume yours fit your description."

"..."

For some reason, Rider couldn't reply Saber's words.

"...No. Rather, I accept them as my Master because I find them entertaining."

"?...'Them'? What do you mean. It is impossible for a Servant to have two Masters."

There was (normally) only seven Command Spell distributed among seven magi to summon seven Servant. When a magus summoned a Servant, a contract would be established between the two. There was a possibility for a Servant to pass a contract with a second Master in the case the first died, but having a contract with two Master was unthinkable, not to mention counter-productive for the Masters.

"Did I say I have two Masters?" A mocking smirk appeared across Rider's face. "Anyway, what shall I do with you now?"

"I said I shall defeat you. Just because I am alone does not mean my sword has rusted, on the contrary: because I face you alone, my blade is sharper than ever!"

Saber readied his weapons and took a step forward without hesitation with the clear intention of fighting Rider until one of the two bit the dust. When he saw that, Rider couldn't help but smiple broadly with a spark of interest in his eyes.

"You are brave, I will give you that, 'knight'. After all, you're the one who had me bother to fight the lot of you on foot. You remind me of someone I fought a long time ago..." With a nostalgic expression, Rider dematerialized all of his weapons. "But if you insist on fighting me alone..."

Rider's body started to shriek, and his now black skin turned back to its slightly tanned color. Eventually, his body recovered its former appearance, and the two arms that had sprouted from Rider's back turned into a pair of raven black wings. With his arms crossed on his chest and displayed a wide smile of challenge. Then, Rider of White's figure rose in the light blue and pink morning sky.

Once he reached a certain height, Rider snapped his figure. Following his command, the golden aircraft adorned with a somptuous garden became visible again and Rider slowly descended toward the throne standing in the middle, and crossed his legs.

"Then prepare to be crushed by my might, human!"

Two wing-like parts deployed on each side of the golden ark and the Noble Phantasm, which up until now had been a throne in the Heavens, flew fiercely toward Saber's small figure on the ground like a divine arrow. In front of the deadly hawk, Saber didn't take a single step back and raised his holy shield in front of him to intercept the aircraft's charge.

The shock when the two met was mighty and made the ground shook more than any of Rider's missile ever had before. Unsurprisingly, Rider's Noble Phantasm had much more momentum and power, and Saber was ruthlessly pushed back like someone trying to drive back a moving wall. But in spite of the bull-like charge pushing further and further away with no resistance, the knight never stop pushing back and didn't show any sigh of giving in.

Through the raising dust and the flying sparks produced by the friction between the tip of the golden ark and Saber's shield, the two Servant stared in each other's eyes; Saber gritting his teeth and pouring all his superhuman strength into stopping the divine chariot, and Rider laughing in wild amusement.

"Hahahahahahahaha! Yes, that's more like it! Entertain me more, Saber!"

The aircraft accelerated and its charge became even more violent. Saber was being pushed back without being able to do anything, crashing into trees, bushes and rocks on the way and smashing through them because of the aircraft's power. But even so, he didn't falter even for a second and kept his legs pressed against the ground like a torero stopping a bull's enraged charge, as if he truly believed he would be able to stop the golden engine this way.

"Good! Haha! This is the first time someone is foolish enough to try and take my Vimana head on! Hahahahaha!"

"Ghuuuuuooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

* * *

The island was plunged in chaos as everyone was either fighting or plotting on their side; everyone except Leo, who had been dashing like a madman through the forest for an eternity despite being already out of breath.

Technically, it hadn't been that long since Saber's Master had fought against Linandir Eïchtobell and gotten away, but the neverchanging forest scenery made him feel like he was one of those guinea pigs running desperately on a wheel, having only the illusion to move forward. That, and the fact that he knew not a damn thing about the situation at hand.

The other reason for his eternal race was that the location of the fighting had been slowly moving away up until now, not allowing him to get close. Which is why Leo was quite surprised when said fighting location came back right in his direction at the speed of a roller coaster and in the form of a shining spacecraft-thingy.

Fortunately, Leo had the good reaction to roll aside with as much energy than he had put into running to avoid being smashed in pieces by the golden aircraft, all while a shower of pebble and small stones poured on him.

"What the -Ouch! Ow! Ack! That shit hurts!"

All while protecting his head with his arms, Leo felt the giant Noble Phantasm pass barely five meters away from him.

Then, even though it was only for a second, Leo caught a glimpse of a persone in armor.

"Saber?!"

"Gh..Master..!"

Saber realized Leo was too close to them for his own good. Unfortunately he was actually unable to move because of the pressure put on his body. However, when Saber called him, the golden ark completely stopped in its track all of sudden as if it had been immobile from the beggining.

Saber, on the other hand, didn't expect this abrupt braking and lost his balance as he flew over a good fifteen meters.

"So this is your Master." Still sat in his throne with his arms crossed on his chest, Rider of White considered Leo -who was still crouching on the ground witha taste of dirt in his mouth- with a haughty look. "As expected, how underwhelming."

Although Leo didn't appreciate the comment, he couldn't really prove him wrong, sadly. Thus, all Leo could do was stare back into those eyes glimmering with a demonic light, and ask:

"Who are you supposed to be?"

Rider frowned at Leo's unexpected answer.

"You aren't a Servant of Red, are you? Yet you attacked Rider of Black." He elaborated. "Then, I take it you're from neither faction."

"Ho? Then our existance really wasn't known? Then I guess I'll have to make the presentation again."

Rider stood up from the luxurious throne. Although he was facing Leo, the height between them as well as Rider's look of disdain made it clear they weren't on an equal footing.

"I am the Rider of 'White' -so from the White Faction."

"The White Faction...?" Even though he asked for it, Leo didn't really know what to do with this information. Not only that, this man's mere presence was pressuring for normal people like Leo, so he had to focus not to look away from the unknown Servant. "Then, are there other-"

"Also."

Rider interrupted Leo before the latter could ask another question.

"?!"

When Rider opened his hands, a bow and an arrow materialized, and Rider aimed at Leo before Saber's Master could understand what was happening.

"You are not allowed to speak to me on such a tone, human!"

The bow fired and the single arrow flew toward Leo like a dart of light, too fast for him to see it coming. The only thing he could do was to close his eyes by innate reflex, and wait for the deadly projectile to strike.

CLANG

"..."

But the arrow didn't reach him. With the sound of metal clashing against metal, the projectile was intercepted by a round shield raised in front of Leo.

"I shall not allow this, Rider." Saber's voice rose. "Your opponent is me; I won't let you even touch my Master...! Or are you such a coward that you cannot defeat me without resorting to underhanded methods?"

When Leo opened his eyes, Saber was indeed standing between him and the Rider of White. Leo was relieved. Or rather, he felt helpless. He was still panting because of his personal marathon and had difficulties standing up; and he would have been killed if it wasn't for Saber. But neither of them were in great shape: Leo wasn't sure what Saber had tried to do when facing this flying mass of solid gold with nothing but his shield, but there were clear signs that he had fought hard.

"Ah, wait Saber, I'll heal your injuries right now!"

Leo muttered a few words and the cut all over Saber's skin disappeared. There was no difference in Saber's expression between before and after Leo healed him, but the Servant tahnked him earnestly nonetheless.

"Thank you, Master."

"Oh, right! Saber, what about Hatsuyo?!"

It was, after all, the reason why he had sent Saber in the first place.

"I didn't see her." Saber tilted his head as if he was forgetting something. "Ah, Lancer was there but I forgot to ask him."

It didn't matter. Hatsuyo had been far from the battles and that was all Leo had needed to know.

"Ugh, and to think I sprinted all the way until here for nothing..."

But no one was listening to his complaint.

Saber had his gaze turned toward Rider who had returned to his seat and had watched the two of them without saying a word, but Saber was still warry. When he had pounded on him with his Noble Phantasm, Rider had called it a 'Vimana'.

It was the first time he heard this word, but the knowledge granted to him by the Grail contained informations about it. Although it didn't really help Saber find out Rider's identity, he knew that these were often the personal chariots of the gods. If Rider of White was on the same level than Divine Spirits, then Saber would truly be unable to beat him alone.

"Hm." Perched on his flying ship, Rider puffed. "I'm a coward, you say? But tell me Saber: do you call someone a coward when they crush an ant under their foot? No, because there's no meaning in the ant's life or the action of stomping on it to begin with. If you try to kill an ant, no one will mind because it as an ant. The same goes with me: humans are like ants to me, and I don't give it any complicated thought. But I guess youre right; there's no reason to bother crushing this one ant..."

The Vimana started to ascend slowly in the sky until it had a clear view on the whole island.

"After all, that's not the reason why I came here. My reason for coming all the way until here is because I made a bet with another king. That, and to crush a great many ants."

The Vimana then emitted an intense light, forcing Leo to protect his nude eyes with his arm. The glow grew stronger at the same time the shape of the Vimana grew bigger. Eventually, the golden aircraft had returned to its previous form of golden seven stories fortress.

"You, your Master..."

A loud ringing noise resounded throughout the foundation of the floating fortress, and tens of canons and other pieces of artillery slowly came out from within the Vimana. Each one of them was, of course, made of gold just like the rest of the citadel, and they were all pointed in different direction toward the nameless island.

"...and all the other ants!"

Inside his golden throne room, Rider of White snapped his finger and, with the same timing, all the canons filled with a great quantity of magical energy, so much that even Leo could feel it. And, the moment after, all canons fired at will.

* * *

Death and fire was now raining down on the small patch of earth in such a way that there was no real safe place to hide. For this reason, all those who were still alive on the island were running left and right to avoid being scorched by the rays of light pouring from the golden construct know as Vimana.

Among the flames and the falling trees, a black figure was dashing at a superhuman speed, followed by another sillhouette.

"Lancer! Take care of the rubbles in my way!"

"Understood!"

While Hatsuyo put all her focus and energy into escaping the shots from the flying fortress, Lancer, who had better agility and instinct, cleared away any obstacle in her way so that she wouldn't trip over or run into a blazing tree by mistake. Her method to avoid the lasers was simple, but would be clearly impossible if she didn't have her special armor boosting her speed: all she had to do was to observe the pieces of artillery poking out of the Vimana. If she saw one pointing in direction of her location, she had less than a second before it lauched its beam of light and destroyed the area.

That way, Lancer of Red's Master zigzagged her way through the burning forest.

* * *

"Runrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrun!"

On his side, Leo didn't have any special equipment that would let him make his way through the sea of obstacles. Not only that but his feet already ached from all the running he had done to reach the location he was now fleeing from. He had no idea where he was going; it was just that his survival instict was tell him to run, and to run as fast as possible to survive at least one more minute.

In the end, his tactic was pretty much the same as Hatsuyo: have Saber clear the way of any obstacle that could impede his desperate rush. On the other hand, he had no way of predicting the path of the lasers, nor had he the time to look up and check. That's why this task was Saber's. When the latter felt an attack coming their way, he would simply grab Leo and move him out of the beam's trajectory.

That way, the Master of Red had been able to survive up until this point.

Yet eventually, he came upon someone unexpected.

"Hey, Hatsuyo!" Leo waved his hand.

The samurai girl gave his a look of disbelief, as though she didn't expect him to be alive in this giant furnace, quickly followed by a black look which attested of her disapointment about his being alive in this giant furnace. At any rate, no one had the time to ask questions so the two kept bolting side by side, although Hatsuyo had clearly less trouble doing so than Leo.

"Ah, that won't do." Lancer commented.

"What's the matter, Lancer?!" Hatsuyo asked the sighing Servant.

"It would have been easier if we had stayed split up, but if we're grouped like this it will be simpler for this asshole to target us."

True, though it looked like Rider of White was firing blindly with the hope of killing them, it was probably because he had trouble locating them among this huge mess. But if they were spotted as a group, all they would gain from it was having all the canons pointed at them specifically.

In other words...

"Then we only have one choice."

Saber concluded, although what conclusion he reached was unknown. Would they have to split up in order to survive?

"Alright, I'll follow you, Saber!" Lancer added.

"Wait! What are you two on about?!" Leo cried between two breath.

Saber answered him while hacking down several burning tree trunk on their way.

"So that he won't target you, we Servant will have to keep him focused on us!"

"What?! All of this focused on you two...?!"

"Lancer, I'm counting on you!"

"Understood, Master."

Unlike Leo, Hatsuyo didn't seem to have any qualm sending her Servant as a decoil. There was no way to know if it was because of the trust she put in him or because she valued her own life more though. In any case, the two Servants nodded to each other and disappeared amidst the flames. Leo and Hatsuyo were now alone running side by side on the deadly obstacle course.

Tripping and ending up burning alive or being burnt to a crisp by the lasers wasn't the only danger here; he they stayed any longer in the middle of all those flames, they would quickly start to suffocate. Yet, for some reason, Leo still found the way to waste some oxygene.

"Hey, Hatsuyo! Are you alright! What happened in- Woh!, don't swing your katana here, I'm seriously going to die!"

"What was that about being worried about me and looking for me, huh? Idiot! I don't need the worry of someone who is weaker than me! You better die here!"

"No, seriously, stop swinging that thing! I'm sorry, you hear! I'm sorry but if you continue I'm seriouly going to run into a tree by trying to avoid your sword!"

"Shut up! Just die!"

That they found a way to quarrel in the middle of such a situation was truly a miracle; though honestly, Leo had expected better for their reunion. He knew Hatsuyo hated it when he acted like he cared about her. It wasn't like one of those characters he could read about in manga and such, where they actually apreciated the thought; it genuinely pissed her off, and for some reason a part of Leo like to tease her about it. But for once he was truly worried about her, he had hoped God would reward him better than that.

Anyway, now that their Servants weren't there to look after them, they had to look out for obstacle son their way.

CRAAAC

With the sound of something cracking, a large tree that had managed to remain rigidly upright started to fall in front of them. Fortunately, they weren't underneath it when it fell heavily on the ground. Unfortunately, it was now blocking the way, and they didn't have the time to get around it.

Their only choice was to jump over it.

Hatsuyo lept over it without difficulty, but Leo didn't have the athletic skills to do the same. Instead, he observed the surrounding of the fallen trunk.

(There!)

He noticed a rock near the trunk that was big enough to be used as a stepping stone. Leo headed toward the stone while trying not to run to fast to miss his chance. Then, he gradually accelerated his sprint and, when he reached the stone, he stepped on it and tried to put as much strength as he could into this one jump.

"Fuh...haaa!"

He sprung from the rock toward the fallen tree. Yet, even with the help of adrenaline he couldn't make it to the other side in one single jump, he needed to support himself on the tree with his hands like when jumping over a fence. However, that meant touching the scorched tree with his bare hands.

"...!"

Leo gritted his teeth and ignored the pain; in fact he didn't feel pain yet, rather a great and uncomfortable warmth. But with this he was able to cross over the huge obstacle without problem. Or so he thought, be when he landed on the other side and tried to start running again, Leo felt a resistance.

Whe he looked back, he saw that the bottom of his sweater had stuck itself on one of the branch of the tree. As much as it pained him to let go of a loyal piece of clothing, he didn't have the time to remove it. Thus, he had to quickly unzip the sweater before it caught fire and to keep running with only his shirt on.

But when he thought he was finally off the hook, Leo saw too late another tree falling, this time right on him. He had noticed it to late to evade it.

"What are you doing?!"

Yet, when he thought that the tree was going to crush him for good, there was a flash in front of him, and the tree was cut in two. The two parts of the tree fell on each side of Leo, but the latter was uninjured.

What had saved Leo from the falling rubble was a samurai standing in front of him with an expression of anger.

"You're too damn slow! If you can't even take care of yourself, at least don't slow me down!"

But despite what she said, Hatsuyo had just come back to help him, and she then grabbed him to lead him out of this rat trap. Or rather, she grabbed his collar and started rushing while dragging his like a coat over her shoulder.

"Arg..Wait! Hatsuyo- Arg... Your strangling me!"

"I'll leave you here if you don't shut up! And it's Toriyama-san for you!"

* * *

With the intensive bombardement taking place, it was a wonder how the black hill in the middle of the island was still standing. In fact, it wasn't exsactly unscathed: all that was left was some kind of completely crooked pillar, like what would be exposed in a modern art gallery. It was still tough enough to stay still though.

This black hill was Saber's and Lancer's destination.

They weren't stupid enough to believe they could attract Rider of White's attention easily. Even if they did, their odd of surviving intensive fire from the Vimana was close to zero. They had to come up with a better and more straightforward method.

"Sorry to count on you again, Saber." Lancer apologized from the bottom of the remnant of the black hill.

Right now, Saber was standing at the top of the twisted column. He had dematerialized his golden sword already and was holding his snow white shield with both hand. His gaze was directed toward the giant glowng form in the sky.

"Don't worry Lancer. That was my idea to begin with."

"Well, even if you say that I still have no role to play." The Servant of the Spear felt a bit useless.

Saber apologized to his Master in his mind and raised his shield above his head like a miniature roof. He had already used this Noble Phantasm without asking permission from his Master once because he had deemed it necessary. This case was the same. Leo was obviously feeling responsible toward Saber, so he would not allow him to put himself in danger. Although Saber was thanksful for his Master's thoughtfullness, he had a role as a Servant and could not let his Master be killed.

Thats' why, he held his shield high above him like he was shielding the whole island.

" **Lord Camelot**!"

An intense pure white light emanatted from the shield. The light gathered around the shield, creating a wall of light growing larger and larger until it be came a large dome covering the whole island from the intensive fire.

Saber's thought at this moment wasn't for his own life nor the threat he was facing, but for the large quantity of prana he was consuming right now.

The golden light of the Vimana and the immaculate white light from Lord Camelot clashed and merged. The massive shield of light intercepted the lasers fired by the golden fortress, and the latter came crashing against Saber's Noble Phantasm. Hundreds of explosions shook the shield as well as the arm holding it, and even the island which was now out of reach was trembling under the fierce assault of Rider's artillery.

The black hill supporting Saber felt the impact as well, and like the last foundation supporting a castle as it crumbles down, it started to creak and to fissure under the great pressure.

* * *

The trurmoil shaking the island reached the depths as well.

In the underground lake, everything was literally falling apart: the stalagtites hanging to the ceiling fell heavily in the water like a rain of arrows, the ceiling of the cave was starting to partially crumble down as well, making this world of shadow quake like never. Amidst all this chaos and falling rubble, the pillar of black stone that was standing in the middle of the cavern was fissuring and falling apart too.

However, the treasure it contained, the Grail Shard, was nowhere to be seen anymore. The same went for the Servant who had been beholding it.

* * *

"Rider, why did you stop firing!"

In the golden throne room at the top of the Vimana fortress, the Rider of White was sitting on his rightful seat leg crossed and his head resting on his fist. His expression indictaed his irritation and the previous excitation he had felt during his fight against Saber was completely gone.

Now he was just looking at the scene underneath the flying fortress through some kind of mirror hanging to one of the golden walls of the room.

Standing next to him was his Master, Saten Naraku, as well as the latter's second personality, NARAKU.

" _Right, dumbass! Why did you stop bombarding them?! We clearly had the advantage here!_ "

"..."

Although his complaint was justified, Rider didn't answer, and instead gave the adolescent a black and imperative look which ordered him to shut up. The power and anger hiding behind this gaze had Naraku close his mouth without realizing.

The Master of White gulped.

"Stupid Master." Then, finally, Rider spoke up with a soft yet authoritarian voice. "I let myself go wild and wasted too much magical energy, that is all. You cannot provide me with prana so my reserve is limited." He sighed. "To think I gave in, that's the result of having a single head...!"

There was nothing Naraku could say. It was true that, as he wasn't a magus, he wasn't able to provide Rider with prana. Instead he had let his Servant eat the soul of innocent passerbys, which didn't please Rider who found it unfitting and degradant.

Now that his Master had stopped talking, Rider redirected his attention toward the mirror. There was something strange going on down there: the ground was shaking. Yet, Rider had already retrieved his canons inside his Vimana.

It didn't seem to be the doing of the Saber or the Lancer of Red either. Then who was...?

* * *

Lancer and Saber were also well positioned to feeling the tremous; though that wasn't as much because they were on the ground than because they were near the remains of the black hill. It wasn't a continuous shaking like a earthquake, it was rather at regular, timely intervals -as if someone was _punching their way through the floor_.

Eventually, more and more cracks started to run across the black stone; then it was the area surrounding it. Slowly but surely, the soil was shattering.

Then, all of sudden, an entire section of the area around the black hill and a part of the latter collapsed and disappeared in the darkness of the abyss like a ship sinking into the deep sea. The rest followed quickly and soon enough there was a large hole right in the middle of the island.

Then, from inside the rift...

"...A horse?" Lancer wondered under his breath.

The thunder of a horse's hoovering came out from the depth of the chasm, as well as a loud and victorious neigh. The noise got closer and, indeed, a large horse came out from the large hole by climbing on the rubbles. An emperor clad in black and gold was proudly riding on his back with his blood red cape floating in the wind. Although covered in dust from his ascension through the caverne's ceiling, Rider of Black was standing there with a majestuous presence surrounding him.

"Rider..!"

"This guy is still alive? I thought his Master was dead."

The Servant of Black who didn't die when his ship had been destroyed by his White counterpart and who hadn't disappeared even though his Master was no more looked down on the two Servants of Red standing away from the chasm created by Rider.

His eyes fell on Saber and he frowned.

"You worm..! I'll have my revanche on you."

Saber took a step back and materialized his sword in his right hand. His arm had suffered a lot of damage from his previous use of his Noble Phantasm, but even if he only had one arm left he wouldn't back away. Lancer did the same and the two of them were ready to face the Rider of Black.

But the latter, rather than attacking them, bit his lips ragefully and turned away.

"I'll have my revanche, but for now I shall retire! But don't worry..." An expression mixing wrath and a mad excitation. "I'll be sure to profit to my heart's content of your scream of pain later!"

Saber then noticed something he hadn't at first in Rider of Black's hand: something golden and emitting an otherwordly light of the same color. It wasn't anything ordinary, nor was it a Noble Phantasm of Rider's...

"It can't be..."

Saber reconized the artifact in Rider's hand as soon as he layed his eyes on it. It was normal after all; although it wasn't the same and it was only a fragment, he had already seen it when he was still alive, the goal that led him on his quest.

The Holy Grail.

Lancer of Red soon understood as well, and both Red Servants dashed toward the horseman, but it was too late. Rider cracked the reins and his horse Incitatus galopped at an unmatchable speed, even for Lancer of Red. The white horse closed the distance between the center of the island and the border in a blink and would soon reach the ocean.

However...

* * *

"You damn little ant." Inside the Vimana, a fulminating Rider of White raised his hand. "Do you really think I'll let you get away?!"

At his command, one of the canons which had disappeared inside the Vimana reappeared.

* * *

The ray of light shot from the golden canon came down like a bolt of lightning toward Rider of Black before the latter could reach the end of the island. It was the same attack that had destroyed his own Noble Phantasm, Diana Nemorensis. Thus, there was no doubt that this attack would be fatal if it was direct.

Yet, the horseman didn't seem to realize the concentrate of magical energy heading in his direction in the form of a laser. The crazy emperor Rider of Black was muttering something unintelligible to himself under his breath.

It all happened in an instant -the canon fired the laser which caught up with the Black Rider and produced a large explosion that turned the soil into scorched land...

Or so Rider of White had expected.

"What happened?"

The ray of light did hit and caused an explosion...but not where Rider of Black was located. It had been inetrcepted by something while in midair before it could harm the mad emperor. As for what intercepted it, or rather _who_ -

"Go on, Rider! You're the only one who can cross the sea fast enough to lose them!"

The last person who would have been expected to stand there -Archer of Black.

"Impossible! This damn bowman...!" Rider of White sweared.

What was incredible wasn't that it was Archer of Black who stopped the attack, it was that he hadn't done it with any kind of projectile: he had taken it head on with no armor, no counter strike and without having the time to activate a Noble Phantasm.

And yet there he stood, still alive after being struck by a laser strong enough to harm a Noble Phantasm. It wasn't that he was completely unscathed -his body was covered in serious burns that would have killed a normal human and his clothes had been totally burnt to ashes. But he still had two legs, two arms and a head.

Rider of Black didn't even thank Archer for taking the attack in his place; that is, if he ever noticed what had happened. Before another laser could be launched, Incitatus jumped over the cliff separating land and sea and fell graciously down toward the salty water. Rather than sinking like a stone, the hooves hammered the surface of the water as though it was solid. Like this, the sillhouette of Rider of Black riding his horse slowly disappeared in the horizon.

* * *

"I won't let him get away with this." Rider sat back on the golden throne and gave order to his Vimana.

Once again, the flying fortress turned back into its smaller, aircraft-like form and turned into stealth mode, becoming completely invisible along with its passengers.

"What do you plan on doing, Rider?"

"Tailing him, obviou-...what is this smell?"

A foul smell had invaded the golden ark. When asked about it, highschool student Saten Naraku fidgeted.

"Well, you see...you did drive your chariot brutally and in all direction so..."

"..."

Rider didn't ask any further question and contented to rub his forehead, then he gave a silent order to the Viimana to follow after Rider of Black.

* * *

After the golden aircraft and Rider of Black couldn't be seen anymore, Arcehr of Black fell to his knees with a groan of pain. Although he was still still in a single piece, he did sustain heavy damages. When he looked at his hand, he saw these didn't look quite human yet and were more alike to dead branches in winter.

But no matter his injuries, since he was a Servant, he could live on as long as his spiritual cores were intact.

 _Archer, are you okay?!_

His Master, Elena Bujart inquired about his state through their mental link.

 _I'm still alive. But it was worth it: our Rider somehow managed to get hold of the Grail Shard and ran away with it. It's our win for this round._

 _Yes. We should be leaving as well; we did what we came here for. Are you in condition for fighting?_

 _Not until I'll have been healed at least enough to hold my bow correctly. But I should be fine; since their objective have already vanished, Lancer and Saber of Red must have returned to their Master out of concern for them._

 _I see. Still, turn into spiritual form, we never know._

Thus, the figure of an injured Archer of Black disappeared like mist in the rain.

* * *

It couldn't be called dawn anymore. The sun was now very high and very bright in the light blue sky.

The sound of the waves breaking against the sandy beach coupled with the calm wistling of the wind felt so relieving as if marking the end of that crazy night. Too bad the destroyed island was an excellent remiding of it.

Anyway, Leo was able to breath in and out heavily and relaxe for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He was actually lying on his side on the sandy beach of the island, looking at the horizon with vacant eyes. They were really lucky to stumble upon the beach when they exited the forest. If they had found a cliff instead, things could have turned out for the worst. And by 'the worst' Leo meant Hatsuyo jumping down the cliff and taking him with her in death.

He had no idea what happened in the forest for the bombardment to stop, but since Leo felt a great quantity of prana being pumped from his rings, it probably meant that Saber had used a Noble Phantasm. Come to think of it, Leo wasn't able to see Saber's Noble Phantasm even once during the night. Whatever, the only this that mattered was that everything was back to how it was before...is what he wished he could say.

There was one thing that definitely changed and would probably never return to what it was. It was Leo's view of Hatsuyo.

The reason Leo was lying on his side with his eyes vacant was because he was trying his best not to look at Hatsuyo at the moment. It had nothing to do with their fight in the forest, nor the fact that Hatsuyo almost suffocated him to death.

When they finally came out of the burning forest and were able to catch a break at last, Leo had noticed something he hadn't beore because of the immediate danger. It was that Hatsuyo's body and face were covered in blood. When he saw this, Leo's mind instantly connected this macabre appearance with Rider of Black and the massacre of Candelaria. Thinking about this gave him a bitter taste in his mouth and made his stomach feel messy, so now he was doing his best not to look at her bloody body.

But there wasn't only that.

When he asked her, Hatsuyo had told him with all the natural in the world that she had killed one of the Master of Black -whom Leo deduced to be Linandir. She looked at him and said it like it was obvious. Linandir had told it to him too, hadn't he? It's a _war_. That meant people were going to kill each other for one reason or another.

But how was he supposed to accpet that fact when he looked at Hatsuyo?

If someone you knew at school, whom you met everyday and talked to often suddenly came to you drenched in blood, claiming to have killed someone, would you just accept it? Would you accept that this person who you'd never have imagined to be able to kill someone, had done it and didn't have any remorse about it?

That's how it was: Hatsuyo had killed someone. Maybe she killed people before as well, seeing how little it seemed to matter to her.

Hatsuyo had killed someone.

To Leo, Hatsuyo was just an annoying girl with a very bad temper and how drew her sword way too easily to get out of an argument. She was annoying, but at least she felt 'true'. In this Mage's Association where backstabs and politic were at the center of everything, Hatsuyo was a person with a brutal honesty, and thus she had nothing to hide. Everytime she said she was going to kill him, she was joking.

That's what he thought.

That's what he still hoped.

After all, didn't she come back to help him when he almost died in that damned forest?

But now, she had gone and done it.

She actually killed someone.

Leo didn't especially like Linandir Eïchtobell, Rider of Black's Master. The short glimpse he had of him instead led him to hate him. Even if he wasn't directly responsible, he hadn't tried to stop Rider from killing tens of people. Leo knew that and yet...

Just by thinking of the amount of blood on Hatsuyo's armor and clothes, he could imagine just how gruesome his death must have been. He remembered the face of the man called Linandir. Then, he remembered the bloodied face of Hatsuyo, and he imagined her killing Linandir with the same expression she always had. The mere thought of it sent a chill down his spine, and he kept looking anywhere but at Hatsuyo.

He didn't know what she was doing. Last time he checked, she was standing further away on the beach and looking at the forest, waiting for her Servant to come back.

All these thoughts Leo was ruminating were interrupted when he heard a pair of footsteps on the sandy beach coming from the forest. He stood up to look and saw Lancer and Saber walking side by side. Lancer was stretching as if he was having a good day, but both had a serious look on their face.

"Lancer, what is the situation?" Hatsuyo's voice rose.

"Everyone is gone, one way or another~. And also, we weren't able to get he Shard Grail."

"I am sorry, Master." Saber walked up to Leo and looked at his feet. "Even though I was there, I couldn't stop Rider of Black from taking the Grail Shard with him."

"It's alright, you don't need to stress out about it. I mean, sure, we're gonna get scolded, but it's not like we lost the war, right?"

Leo had said that to cheer his Servant up. Leo never had never been interested in the Grail to start with, so Saber didn't have to feel bad about it. But that was wrong. Leo's mistake was to have thought Saber was feeling down because he couldn't bring the Grail to his Master.

But that was wrong.

"Yes, but Master. If you order me to go after them now, then I will...!" Saber offered in all seriousness.

"What are you saying?! They're already gone since long, right? Then you don't have to try the impossible!"

"!"

Crap. Leo had said this with much more harshness than he had intended. Saber was taken aback by Leo's answer.

"Yes...but...if you order it..." Saber babbled while looking down.

"What do you mean, 'if I order it'? I can't order you the impossible!" Leo didn't understand. Why did Saber seem to refute that obvious fact? "You've already done much more than necessary tonight! Is the Grail so important to you?! And I told you to stop calling me Master, didn't I?"

But that was wrong.

"Yes." Saber replied, not by babbling, but with a calm, adamant voice. "The Grail is the most important thing for me. That's why I answered your summoning, Master."

Saber especially insisted on this last word. It wasn't a taunt; it sounded more like reproach.

"My role is to find the Grail. And you are my Master. Do not be mistaken about this."

Leo had been wrong to assume Saber felt bad for him. Saber was the one who wanted the Grail more than anything; he was looking down because he couldn't get his hands on it.

Leo found it stupid. He didn't know why, he was supposed to be happy that both he and Hatsuyo survived that round. Yet, he could only think of how stupid that was. Saber had already found the Grail during his quest, right? Then why did he need to look for it again?

Leo knew, because he was the one who healed Saber: his Servant had suffered many injuries. Even now, when looking at his left arm you could see that it was partially broken. Why did Saber have to be hurt so much for something he had alredy done? That wish of his only sounded logical to him, the knight who was chosen to find the Grail. Leo thought it was stupid.

But he couldn't voice any objection. In front of Saber's unwavering eyes of steel, it was Leo's turn to be taken aback.

"W-well they're too far for you to go after then now anyway!"

Then, to escape his Servant's gaze, Leo turned toward Hatsuyo, who was speaking to Lancer on her side. He tried his best not to look at the blood covering her, but Leo felt nauseous already.

When she saw him approaching, Hatsuyo stopped talking to Lancer and walked toward Leo.

"Are you done? Then let's get out of here."

"Wait, what about Abraham?"

"What about him? He's probably dead somewhere, for all I care!"

"Hey, don't just bury people like this!"

Leo agreed that the odd of the magus having survived the attack of the Vimana without the help of a Servant were low, but it just didn't feel right to leave without making sure he wasn't still alive.

"You can go look for him if you want." But Hatsuyo refused his point of view. "I'm out."

"And how?"

"What?"

"How will you leave the island?"

"Well, by taking the boat we stole."

Hatsuyo looked at him as if it was obvious. But...

"You mean the boat you crashed into the island?!" Leo shouted while pointing at the carcass of the small fishing boat lying on the beach, already dead and gone.

When he remebered her of that fact, Hatsuyo looked the other way.

"I don't see what you're talking about."

"Why, you...! How are we supposed to go home now?!"

"We'll just swim."

"What are you saying?! As if a human being without any training could swim all the way back from this island!"

Leo ran after Hatsuyo who was already heading toward the salty water and grabbed her shoulder. Somehow, this felt like the fight they always had and Leo appreciated it. It didn't last long however.

"Gh...!"

"!"

When Leo grabbed her shoulder, Hatsuyo's body jerked a little and she let out a small groan. At first, Leo didn't understand why, but soon he saw that the shoulder he was holding was covered in bandages.

"Wait, you are hurt? Why didn't you say it earlier!?"

Leo tried to turn Hastuyo around because he wanted to check her wound, but the samurai girl pushed him away.

"I don't need your concern, idiot! I'll kill you if you don't leave me alone!"

It was the same as usual. Just like usual, Hatsuyo threatened him when she didn't have any argument. But this time, Leo felt a chill running through his spine and hastily pulled back his hand from her shoulder.

"A-alright." Without noticing it, he had answered unlike usual.

Hatsuyo noticed this unusual outcome. Yes, normally he would have fought back and tried to heal her no matter what she said. But this time he had acted like a scaredy cat, and Hatsuyo raised an eyebrow. Leo didn't know what expression he was making, but Hatsuyo looked at him weirdly.

Then, she turned away without saying anything.

"Anyway." Leo said weakly. "You can't possibly think of actually swiming, right?"

"Do you have anything better to offer?" Hatsuyo replied without turning back.

"I don't know! But I sure as hell can't swim such a distance!"

"I can just turn into spirit form so don't mind me~." Lancer commented.

That's right! The Servants!

"Saber!" Leo turned to his own Servant, haing almost forgotten their previous serious discussion. "When Rider's boat was destroyed, you walked on water, right?"

"That was an exception, Master. It was the blessing of God that allowed me to bring you to safety. Now that there is no danger nearby, I cannot do that again." Saber apologized.

"Arrg, but then how do we go back?! I really don't want to swim!"

"It's alright Master. I can swim while carrying you."

"That sounds really unpractical! Oh, I know! I can call Oncle Michael! Ah, I must also tell him about the White Faction!"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Ah, crap, there is no signal on this island. Is there really no other way?!"

And then, while rubbing his head for ideas to come out, Leo realized. Hatsuyo too realized, although she didn't show it. Lancer as well, even though he wasn't concerned, understood.

"..."

"..."

"..."

The three of them were looking at Saber. Or rather, they were looking at the big round shield in his arms.

"...Master?"

* * *

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _Hey guys, it's already the tenth chapter! And it's barely the tenth chapter!_

 _So, a pretty short and uneventful chapter...is what I thought it would be but for some reason this chapter ended up having my biggest word count yet._

 _Anyway, with this chapter the Azores Arc is drawn to a close! That means starting from the next chapter I'll be able to focuse on other Servants, other Masters and another place! I guess you've pretty much forgottent about the rest of the cast, but whatever._

 _Once again, thank you for reading this chapter! Dont hesitate to review, comment or ask a question!_

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	12. Chapter XI: One Step Ahead

_A/N: Hi there everyone, thank you for reading Fate/Rongodamiant. I'm just writing this Author's Note to inform you of a little and probably temporary change. Simply put, I decided to add music in this chapter to enhance the reading experience. I know that this has been done with little success by other people up until now, and since I am myself unsure of this choice this chapter will only a test; I will judge whether to keep it or to remove it depending on your feedback._

 _The musics' names shall be written as such: *** [Name of the serie/artist] – [Name of the music].**_

 _Remember you're also not forced to actually do listen to the musics I advise._

 _Thank you for reading this small notes, and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter anyway!_

* * *

 _ *** Umineko – Mystic Forest**_

Why did things become like this?

Isn't there a limit to how much misfortune one can have in life?

If so then why was she still suffering?!

Such questions were going back and forth within her half-asleep mind like a song playing again and again without end, like a math problem one wasn't supposed to solve.

And she just couldn't seem to find the answer.

She couldn't find what notes were supposed to mark the end of the song.

But...did she even care anymore? ...Probably not. If she couldn't find an answer to these question then it was perfect. As long as she was thinking about it, she couldn't fall asleep. That's how she managed to maintain this state of vague consciousness. She wasn't really asleep; nor was she really awake.

She didn't want to leave that state; that was the only way she had found not to suffer. It was ironic in hindsight: her only way not to suffer was to ponder on the reason why she was suffering. But there was no answer; the only logical answer would be that God hated her. But she didn't want to accept that answer. Because if she did, it would be too sad; not only would she never find an end to her suffering, but she would also lose her only shelter from pain. That's why she refused this answer with all her heart, in order to stay in this state of eternity where she couldn't feel minutes passing by.

She wanted to stay in this state of reflexion where she was neither asleep nor awake.

If she was to give in to sleep, she would be forced to see those strange dreams again. Her Servant's past -nostalgic memories that weren't her. Memories filled with sadness and anger playing all over again just like that song in her head. Sometimes, there were some memories filled with hapiness; but it never lasted. Everytime her Servant was to find a fragment of hapiness in this oceant of sadness, it was immediatly washed away by the waves before he could even touch it with his fingers. Again and again; he should have known that such a simple thing as hapiness would always be refused to him, so why did he keep trying, knowing very well it would be broken in the most cruel way. They were very similar in this regard.

Very similar yet different: even if she still couldn't explain why she was suffering so much, she could still decide to settle with the answer that God hated her. But he couldn't; he couldn't possibly be hated by God, since he was loved by Him. And so, the same impossible question would come up again, except he didn't even have that simple last resort answer she had.

There was no answer.

Why was he not allowed to finally find hapiness without losing it? Was did he have to go through all this? If it wasn't God, then was it fate? But what was fate? At times it felt so menacing and unbreakable, yet at other times it was like it didn't exist at all.

There was no answer.

He couldn't find an answer during his life, and so the only thing he could do was enduring it with his fists and teeth clenched. In the end, the only answer he ever found was his own death. But even then, that cruel fate decided to bring him back in a state where he could only suffer. Just thinking about it was so sad.

Ah, she should stop thinking about so many things; if she doesn't focus on her own question then she is going to wake up.

If she woke up, she would have no choice but to face reality. Her sad life that was further more disrupted and defilled when those red marks appeared on her hand. The magi who came to find her and forced her to take part in this ritual called the Holy Grail War which she knew nothing about. If she left her trance, she would have no choice but to acknowledge her suffering. But more importantly, she would have to face him -her Servant, Beserker. The first time she saw him, she thought he looked like a furious, monstrous beast ready to crush whatever was in front of him. That's what his eyes filled with madness inspired her.

But after witnessing his life through her dreams, she understood: it wasn't madness which clouded his eyes.

It was suffering.

They were both suffering from the same pain. That's why, if she stayed awake, she felt like their misery would increase from being so near of each other. If he hadn't been in this state -was he able to speak normally, to move normally and to make another expression than one of anger and pain, then they probably could have healed each other's pain. But that wasn't the case.

(Ah, that's no good).

She shouldn't let her mind wander or else she will wake up. Yet, another part of her was tired of searching a satisfaying answer in vain. Her mind wished it could rest a little, but she knew she would find any rest if she slept. Such a dilemma; as if it was a game to see which of her mind or her heart would break first.

It was in the middle of this dilemma that she heard something.

"...bird?"

 _ *** Stop Music**_

A voice coming from outside this closed realm of hers. It was a voice trying to wake her up; to make her feel sadness. So, naturally, she did her best to fight it back.

"...Mrs. Stormbird?"

(...Ah...)

But, as the voice insisted stubbornly, she recognized the owner of that voice. She didn't want to wake up, yet another part of her forced her to open her eyes, whether she wanted to or not

 _ *** Higurashi – Kage (Shadow)**_

"Ughh... ow, my back hurts..." Leanne Stormbird complained as her consciousness came back to her.

"Are you alright? You shouldn't sleep on the floor."

Indeed, as she sat up Leanne noticed her hand was touching something hard and cold -that is to say, the ground. She raised her gaze to look around. Of course, what she saw was her bedroom, but she couldn't help that feeling of confusion everytime she came out of this strange trance she had discovered recently. Her eyes stopped on her bed, which was only a couple meters away from where she had waken up.

She was pretty annoyed since she was certain it was on said bed she had been resting, at least before she closed her consciousness. Did she roll over and fell on the ground? She didn't feel any shock or pain though. That made her worried as to whether she really 'fell asleep' on her bed or not.

(Ugh, this bad habit is messing with my mind...) She complained in her head.

Because she couldn't feel much of what was happening around her while in this state, she was discovering all the pain in her body at once, and she also realized she was seriously hungry. But it wasn't the moment for that; Leanne painfully stood up to greet her visitor.

"Sorry for the mess, REVOC. Did you knock on the door? Sorry, I should have come welcome you! Sorry, sorry!"

"No, there's no problem." The young man replied in a calm voice. "If you were deep asleep it means you need some rest."

"N-no, I shouldn't be sleeping when I have a guest!"

The person who had woken Leanne up and helped her standing up was REVOC, the Master of Assassin of Red. He was a young man who looked in his early twenties, but he didn't exactly look like a normal person. In the first place, his extremely pale skin and his long raven-colored hair made him stood out compared to someone normal-looking like Leanne; yet the strangest was the scars running across his face like some kind of Monster of Frankenstein. Coupled with a large black cape hidding the rest of his body, he looked like he would be starring in some B horror movie.

Normally, it would be creepy to have someone like him come inside your house at will, let alone stay in your room while you sleep. However, Leanne didn't mind that at all; on the contrary, his presence eased her mind more than anything else.

Ever since this whole mess called the Holy Grail War started, Leanne had been visited by suspicious people calling themselves magi. At first, Leanne thought they were part of some sort of sect (and she still held that conviction in a part of her mind), but they backed their words when they made her summon Berserker. Ever since then, thing went downhill for Leanne. For starter, her Servant's mere presence exerced some kind of pression on her mind and body, as if she had caught a cold or something. Moreover, those people, the magi...Leanne's instinct told her she was being used. It wasn't just an impression though; the way they looked at her, the way they behaved. They seemed to despise her for some reason.

They saw her as some kind of pet, someone who was supposed to obey them without understanding what they were saying. When she was told someone would be sent to look after her, she had been worried sick. Fortunately, the person who came to her was REVOC.

At first, she was scared by his appearance and by the fact he was one of those who had turned her life upside down. But he wasn't like them. He did his best to cheer her up even when she felt alone and hopeless. Even though he looked a bit scary, his way of speaking was soft and reassuring.

His presence truly eased Leanne's heart. It wasn't only her, even Beserker seemed to calm down a little when he came at Leanne's home. If he was someone who could chase away people's unhappiness just by his presence, then he couldn't possibly be a bad person.

Even though Leanne had to go through so many hurdles, it was thanks to him that she didn't feel lonely. He was the only person, apart from Berserker, whom she had any contact with for a long time. In a way, he was her only friend.

That's why, despite her pathetic state, she was happy that he came to see her. Yet, after recovering from her confusion, she saw the sad expression on his face.

"What's the matter?"

"..." REVOC waited a bit before answering. Eventually though, he opened his mouth to announce her: "The conflict of the Grail War are about to start. In other words, it means you'll have to head for the battlefield."

"...Ah."

 _ ***Higurashi - Conviction**_

Surprised by what she just heard, Leanne was taken aback. Seeing her reaction, REVOC couldn't help looking down with a sad look. Nonetheless, he kept on with his mission and explained the situation to her in more details.

"You'll be heading to Danemark, to the small city of Hargor, where one of the Grail Shard was found by our agents." Seeing that she was a bit tense, the young man tried to cheer Leanne up. "You don't need to worry. There's no guarantee that there will be a fight. And even if it comes to this, your Servant is strong. He won't let you get hurt."

Leanne appreaciated his concern, but it wasn't enough to chase away the terrible feeling squeezing her chest.

It was true she had been told she would have to fight on the 'Mage's Association''s side for the Holy Grail, but because all she had done ever since then was staying at home without anything happening, it came as a shock. When hearing the word 'battlefield', obviously the first thing that came to Leanne's imagination was a scene like those you could see in a war movie. However, since it was supposedly a fight between beings such as Leanne's Berserker, she didn't know what to expect. In any case, learning all of sudden that you'll have to fight in a real battle was frightening.

Yet, that wasn't what was on Leanne's mind at the moment.

"It's a battle between Masters and Servants, right? Then...does that mean we'll be fighting together?"

"...No."

"..."

When hearing that single word, something deep inside Leanne throbbed painfully.

"I was ordered to stay in stand by with Assassin, so no matter how much I want to, I can't come with you. Sorry." REVOC added.

"..."

Leanne couldn't say anything. It wasn't that she didn't know what to say; there were many things she wanted to say. But...she just seemed unable to make them come out of her throat. So instead, after being silent for a moment, she decided to smile.

"Okay, I understand!"

"...Mrs. Stormbird." REVOC's first reaction was surprise. Surely you wouldn't expect anyone to smile in this situation. But it quickly became sadness when he saw how fake that smile was. Even Leanne realized it, so why ws she insisting nonetheless?

"Don't make that face! I'll be alright; you said it yourself: Berserker is strong. With someone like this protecting me, I don't risk anything! A-and you shouldn't underestimate me either!" Leanne declared proudly and she put her fist against her chest.

But it was no use. No matter how much effort she put in it, there was no way she could make that smile seem true. That's because she wasn't that kind of person. She couldn't hide how she felt inside. Even so, she didn't want REVOC to worry about her. She knew little about his life, but she knew he had his own circumstances. That's why, even if she couldn't put up an act, she decided to smile.

"Ah, sorry but I need to go to the bathroom."

She invented an excuse to get away.

Even that was obvious, but her smile didn't waver.

Only once she had reached the bathroom and closed the door behind her, her smile broke down and she bit her lower lips anxiously.

She was pathetic.

Anyone looking at the scene would tell her that her reaction was only natural. Yet, she felt...truly...pathetic.

She looked at her reflection in the bathroom's miror. She looked tired. No, that was wrong; she didn't just look tired, her very soul felt it needed some rest. She had lied to REVOC when she said she was sleeping; for that she felt guilty. She also felt guilty for the strange trance she entered instead of sleeping; for the things she was thinking when in that state; she even felt guilty for the situation she was in. That was stupid, but that was what her reflection on the mirror was screaming.

Just as she was brooding alone in the dark, a voice reached her from the other side of the door.

"You don't need to hide it. It's normal that you would feel scared in your situation."

"..."

She didn't reply.

REVOC knew how she felt: about the other magi, about Beserker and about evrything else. She had told him her worries during one of their discussion before. That's why, even if she had concealed it well, he would understand how she felt. Once again, he is trying to comfort him the best he can. But that's not what she want; she doesn't want to make him worry. He shouldn't be worrying about her when he's also clearly of the party of those who suffer.

That feeling, Leanne couldn't get rid of it. That was truly...pathetic.

"You don't have to worry." REVOC insisted. "Your partner will be Rider of Red's Master. He isn't like the other magi. I...feel you can trust him."

Once again, she didn't reply. She trusted his word; so if someone like him said she could trust her partner, then she was persuaded it must be so. But that thought wasn't what was occupying her mind.

She looked at the tired and ghastly her in the mirror; it made her realize.

It made her realize just how much her life had changed in just a few weeks.

* * *

 **Chapter XI: One Step Ahead**

* * *

 _ *** Umineko - Sukashiyuri**_

The Mage's Association.

The greatest and most powerful Magi organization in the world. The magi family that were not part of it were extremely rare, and for the most part extremely weak in term of magecraft. Those exceptions asides, magi from all around the world and from all kind of departments were gathered in this organization that has been developing magecraft for thousands of years. Considering its age and importance, one can hardly be recognized as an accomplished magus if they're not part of it. Consequently, making such an organisation your opponent was akin to suicide.

And yet, one organisation had done so by using the unique ritual known as the Holy Grail War.

The main branch of the Mage's Association, as well as its headquarters was the Clock Tower of London. Unbeknownst to the common mass, in the mundialy famous capital were gathered secrets, thaumaturgy laboratories and criminals amongst the worst.

It was also the where the best school for young magi and futur family heads was located; although, calling it a school isn't the entire truth. Even for its youngest members, the Mage's Association was a place where struggle for power and political scheming were common.

Every magus family aimed at obtaining the best result with their own magecraft; and, ultimately, all hope to reach the Root some way or another.

To make sure one's studies beared fruits;

To gain the favor of this one or another family;

Political marriages between amilies to give birth to a heir with better Magic Circuits...

In the middle of this environment, in a dark room isolated from the main part of the Clock Tower, a magus was...

...Making a phone call.

 _ *** Umineko – HANE**_

"'Sup! I heard you guys are in the Azores so I thought I would say hello at least. In fact, it's the twentieth time I'm trying to join you!"

 _"Oncle Michael?...Wait, what do you mean 'the twentieth time'?! Did you think about the price?!"_

Michael Argas, Rider of Red's Master, was chatting cheerfully with his nephew who had just now arrived at the Azores with Hatsuyo Toriyama as well as a magus from the Mage's Association.

If anything, Michael really didn't blend well in the place he was in. His appearance was that of a man approaching his late thirties with messy balck hair and an half-assedly shaved face, wearing casual clothes as well as a watch and, of course, the mobile phone in his hand -the kind of technologies magi greatly disliked.

"Pff, like I care! The bill's for the Mage's Association." (I bet these guys don't even know what a telephone bill is anyway.) He thought while puffing, and imagined the face the guys who'd receive the receipt will make.

Of course, no magus in their right mind would dare do something like that.

It wasn't just his appearance; the very aura emanatting from Michael and his lively discussion with Leo was in total contrast with the overall atmosphere of the Clock Tower.

 _"Where are they sending you, Oncle Michael?"_ Leo asked through the phone.

"To Denmark. That's right, you get the sun while I get the snow; you lucky bastard!"

Then, it was barely audible but Michael was sure Leo had said.

 _"At least you didn't get knocked out..."_

"Huh? Knocked out?! What happened?! Don't tell you've fought already!"

 _"Err, no, nothing!"_ Leo suddenly sounded like he wanted to end the call. _"Anyway, thank you for the call."_

"Yeah, take care of yourself. Well, I complained but I probably won't have the time to freeze, especially with Rider. This guy is _fired up_."

Leo suddenly hung up.

"Hey now, you little brat, why do you hang up just after someone makes a joke?!"

"No, your joke sucked anyway."

Standing next to Michael was a boy in his late teens with golden hair and red eyes wearing a chiton -Rider of Red. He had just watched Michael's discussion with his nephew in silence before, but for some reason he was now looking at the former with a septical expression.

"How can you say it sucked!" Michael struck a dramatic pose. "Why must you hurt me so, Rider?!"

"Wait, shouldn't I be the one feeling hurt by that joke?! Don't make me the bad guy here!" Rider replied while pinching his Master's cheek.

Soon enough, both Master and Servant were struggling, pinching each other's cheek like children having an argument. Naturally with his superhuman strength, Rider had the upper hand.

"Damn you..! Hnnng...I'll use a Command Seal if it's like that!"

"What the- Don't use something like that! That's cheating!"

"Who's cheating, you steroid brat?!"

"Stop acting like a kid and just accept your deafeat!"

"By my Command Seal...!"

"Okay, okay, I get it!"

The fight having reached a strange stalemate, the two of them eventually let go of each other with a sulking expression.

In front of Leo and Maria, Michael always acted like a strong fatherly figure, yet ever since Rider had been summoned they have been having these childish fights often. If Leo saw this, his image of his uncle would crumble (or at least so thought Michael). Even so, the two of them didnt seem to care about appearance and were now laughing heartily.

And it wasn't like Rider didn't understand the reason behind Michael's behavior.

"You're worried about your nephew, aren't you?"

Rider cleared his throat and asked all of sudden. Michael seemed surprise at Rider's question; yet even so, he crossed his arms with a confident look.

"I have no reason to be worried. He isn't a kid anymore. Moreover, he has a top-rank Servant with him so I'm sure he'll be alright."

"I see..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

After a moment staring at each other, Michael's confident face started to twitch.

"...Rhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! How am I supposed not to worry about him?!"

"Wha!"

Suddenly, when he couldn't keep a straight face anymore, Michael let out a cry of despair and started to roll around the floor while scratching his hed frentically. Of course, 'around the floor' included where Rider was standing.

"Hey, cut that out! You'll make trip at this rat- Bgha!" The young man opened his mouth to complain, but he was too late.

"Leooooooooooooooo!"

"I said cut that out!"

And here they go again.

Anyway, there's only so stamina someone like Michael could have, so his antics would stop soon enough. Or so Rider expected but for some reason the middle-aged man didn't slow down one bit. Rider (who was now also lying on the ground) felt a vein pop up on his forehead, and he kicked his rampaging Master to calm him down. Yet, as if it was made of rubber, the rolling Michael hit the wall of the room and actually bounced off it.

The now flying Michael landed, of all place, on Rider.

"Gha...! Ah...my ribs...!"

"O-ouch. You didn't have to kick me, Rider..."

"S-shut up..."

Just as Rider had wanted, Michael had stopped his tantrum. On the other hand, the two of them were now lying on top of each other, panting and covered in sweat. Really, thank god there was no one around to see this pathetic scene.

 _ *** Umineko – The Old Clock**_

After they had both cooled down a bit, Michael let out a long, tired sigh.

"Yeah, I'm dead worried. Though, what I said still stand: there's nothing I can do but trust him. Since he has another Master with him, he should be alright, I guess."

Judging from the Leo's interaction with Lancer's Master, Rider somehow doubted that statement. But he realized saying anything wouldn't help Michael in the least. Anybody looking at them would probably be astonished that a grown up man and a legendary being could be fooling around the way they did.

But Rider knew that was the only way Michael had found to deal with his stress.

Michael almost had a heart attack when he heard his nephew had received Command Seals. Not only that but his own daughter was kidnapped all of sudden. In fact, saying she was kidnapped is only an hypothesis; they didn't even know what actually happened to her. To hide the stress and misery such a situation was causing, the only thing Michael had found was to act like a clown.

And despite knowing how his Master truly felt, Rider was powerless to help him, so the least he could do was play along with him to help him feel better. It was humiliating for him, whom people called a Heroic Spirit.

Truly, he was nothing like a hero.

Anyway, as far as Leo is concerned Michael was right. The Mage's Association had made sure only to summon high level Servant to fight for the Red Faction, and Saber was undoubtly one of the best of his class. Of course, that wasn't the problem here. In Michael's mind, each second flying by is one where his nephew might be dying without him even knowing it. Add to that the uncertainty as for his daughter's safety...

Rider wasn't able to keep up his trademark smile.

That was so frustrating.

"Ah, it's about time we go on our side as well, isn't it?"

Michael was right; after all they were supposed to be fighting in the war as well. Just like he had said on the phone earlier, the two of them plus Berserker and his Master were supposed to head to Denmark where one of the Grail Shard had already been located by agents of the Clock Tower. And at any rate it was better than just staying in the tension-filled air of the Mage's Association doing nothing.

"Yeah, but there's something more important to do right now."

"What?"

"You getting off me, that would be greatly appreciated."

"Oh, I don't know. You are pretty comfortable you know- ouch! I get it, I was just joking!"

Michael finally stood up, although his vitality from before was gone.

Rider sat on ground while rubbing his painful back. He looked at the figure of the man stading in front of him in the dimly lit room, his back turned. He didn't forget what Michael told him after his summoning.

"Michael." He called.

His Master turned his head around, trying to put on a smile again. Seeing that was painful to Rider.

"What is it, Rider?"

"...We'll save Maria, whatever the cost."

"..."

When he heard this, Michael's face lost its smile which was replaced with very tired eyes.

They were tired, but they were filled with a strong determination as he nodded his head in response.

* * *

 _ *** Higurashi – Iru**_

The airport was bustling with activity. It was no surprise as it was a period of holiday; families were starting to go on vacation and others were coming from elsewhere. Thinking about it, it would be Christmast in a couple weeks already.

(What a weird Christmas it's going to be.) Michael mused. (I wonder I could have summoned Santa as a Servant.)

Normally, at this time of the year both Maria and Leo would be at home, ready to celebrate as a family...

Thinking back on those precious memories only reminded Michael of the present situation, so he shook his head and made his way through the busy mass of people. Rider was following behind him, not in his spiritual form but actually wearing casual clothes. As a result, they looked like a father and child about to leave on a trip together although they looked nothing like each other. The thought of it made him chuckle, and Rider gave him a confuse look.

(A father and child...)

Michael thought back on what Rider told him earlier. He was right, Michael couldn't allow himself to feel down in this situation. No matter what it would take, they will take Maria back and put an end to this ridiculous war. Michael had this responsability toward Maria and Leo as their caretaker. No, as their father.

It wasn't only toward them though.

Michael glanced at the Rider with a serious expression that didn't fit his youthful appearance.

Despite knowing his identity in advance, Michael had been amazed when he heard his Servant's wish. Such a simple wish, yet why did it have to be so hard to realize? The two of them had only known each other for a few weeks, but Michael felt a burning determination to help Rider have his wish granted.

"..."

No. Even more than that...he felt somewhere inside him that he had to look after this child too, no matter what. And yet, Rider had to be the one to cheer him up when he felt down, although Michael was supposed to be the adult here. This time around he would be the one looking after Rider. For this reason, he couldn't let his own pessimism slow him down.

(No matter what, we will succeed...!)

Just as he thought that, Micheal noticed someone among the crow who quite didn't fit, at least in his eyes. A middle aged man with a somewhat stern look on his face slowly walked up to Michael's level and matched his pace to his. Anyone in seeing this would be wary of the stranger, but Michael didn't show any of that; that was because he knew who that person was.

"All the preparaion were taken care of." The man whispered in a deep voice loud enough that Rider's Master.

"Yeah, thank you very much. What is the level of defence?"

"I can't tell about Servants but as long as it isn't on the level of a greater ritual it should be fine."

"I see. I guess this is the best we can do..." Michael sighed

"..."

Without prolonging the conversation any further, the unknwon man simply bowed hi head slightly and disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared. This exchange had been extremely brief and hard to understand for an outsider, but it greatly eased Michael's mind.

To clarify, the person with whom Rider's Master just spoke was not directly affiliated with the Mage's Association. Of course the magi waiting on site for Michael and Rider to come and transport the Grail Shard were Enforcers dispatched by the Clock Tower, but that in itself was already an achievement. Michael greatly doubted the Mage's Association would bother to actually send people searching for the Grail Shard if it weren't for the New Age Corporation declaring war on them personally. In fact, he suspected that if New Age wasn't an organisation that wanted to change the very fondation of the Association, the latter wouldn't have bothered anyway; they'd rather have simply given them a Catalyst and leave them on their own.

Or maybe it was because of the strange form this war had taken, but it didn't change the fact it was a miracle the Mage's Association actually made a move themselves and allowed the Masters of Red to use the Clock Tower as a fortress. After all he doubted New Edge would dare attack this place directly. But any more than that would be asking too much. In other words, Masters were to guarantee their own safety.

Michael had nothing against that himself; the problem was Michael's teammate. To put it bluntly, the Red Faction members were a clusterfuck; some of them weren't capable magi and they even had a little girl. But what's even worse is that among them there was a single normal woman who was dragged into this without her consent, Berserker of Red's Master.

It was already bad in itself to have someone unrelated dragged into this, but she couldn't even protect herself in the worst case scenario. That's why, although he had never met her before, Michael had taken some precautions. There were some magi like Michael who didn't share the pride of regular magi, or even some other who weren't talentuous enough to be part of the Mage's Association and selled their skilled like mercenaries. The man who just exchanged briefly with him was one of these.

What Michael had requested was simple: to put a boundary field on the plane they were to take to prtect it from outside attacks. It wasn't about having a shield to repel all kinds of attack, but rather for the plane not to go down in one attack so that they had to escape on Rider's Noble Phantasm if necessary.

It wasn't only for him and Berserker's Master, but also or the regular passengers of the plane. As much as Michael hated having to put more unrelated people in danger, it was the best solution. Even if they used something more sneaky like a fishing boat, the chance of an ambush are just as great since they're not sure what New Edge is capable of.

And even more so, that's probably the best for the other person travelling with Michael.

* * *

On Leanne's end, it had been just as hard to walk through the bustling crowd of the airport. At the moment though, she was finally able to sit on her seat inside the much more quiet plane. No matter how many time she did it, airport really were stressful; some people were so used to it they didn't mind, but she couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief as she finally sat down.

"I swear, that's why I hate taking the plane..."

(Yet...it takes me back, doesn't it...) She mused as she gazed at the ceiling absentmindedly.

As much as she complained, it had been so long ever since she traveled aboard a plane. No, actually it had been two months at best. But so many things had happened in between that it might as well had been two years. At any rate, she never thought she would ever apreciate being in such a place. Yet, it was such a familiar place; it was a part of her normal life before everything went crazy. That's why, in this familiar place that reminded her of happier times, her body seemed to relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

Of course, it wasn't like she could just forget about Masters, Servants and the Holy Grail War so easily. Even though the seat next to her was empty, she could imagine the massive Berserker of Red just sitting there, giving off the same aura as usual. But she didn't mind. Just like she was able to relax, Berserker seemed to be calmer. As to how it felt for his Master, it was like dark clouds towering menacingly in the sky without releasing a single drop of water. Or, to put it in a more scientific way, it was like the heavy air one could feel during the rainy season in some Eastern countries.

It was something Leanne only noticed recently, but Berserker's mood seem to reflect her own to a certain extent. During the first days of her life as a Master, when she had been completely confused and down, was when his wrathful aura had been at its worst. And whenever she was able to relax like when REVOC was with them or in the present situation, his heavy presence became lighter.

She didn't understand why it was like that. From what she had been told about the Berserker class, Servants summoned in this class lost all form of reason and became little more than blood-thirsty fighters. Yet, not once did her Servant give that impression to her. It was true that sometimes he looked like a wild beast ready to tear whatever's near to pieces. But at times, it was almost like they could converse normally. No, rather she should say there was some sort of emotional bond between them. Or was it normal for a Master and their Servant?

Just as she lost herself in such thoughts, Leanne felt Berserker suddenly tensing up. She understood that it wasn't just his mood randomely swinging; he had spotted something that caused him to raise his guard.

"What's the matter, Berserker?"

The giant of a man answer as always, with a beastly growl. Because her attention had been drawn to her Servant, Leanne didn't notice the person walking in direction of her row. No, actually she couldn't have possibly put them apart from the other people on this plane.

"Ah, excuse me. Are you Mrs. Stormbird?"

Her shoulder jerked up a little when she was called out all of sudden. When she looked at the person who had addressed to her, she was surprised to find an average-looking man in his middle thirties standing next to her and waving clumsily.

"Yes...?"

For a moment, Leanne wondered who it could be before she remembered she was indeed waiting for someone who was supposed to be sitting next to her.

"Ah...!"

"Sorry if I surprised you, I am Michael Argas." Then he added in a low voice. "I am Rider's Master."

Leanne had already figured it out, but hearing it from his mouth still surprised her. It wasn't that she didn't believe him but...he didn't quite look the part. When she was told she'd be paired up with a magi, she had imagined one of those grim-faced and mysterious people who had come to her before. But the person standing there looked nothing like that. In fact, he was normal enough that Leanne hadn't suspected him to be a magi when he walked in the plane.

"Do you mind if I sit there?" The man known as Michael Argas asked as he scratched his head with an apolegetic look.

"Ah, n-not at all. I mean, this is your seat after all." Leanne replied awkwardly, and this marked the end of the conversation.

Rider of Red's Master silently sat next to Leanne and didn't say anything more.

Awkward.

The only way to describe the atmosphere now was 'awkward'. Neither her nor Michael opened their mouth to speak for a long time, to the point that by the time the plane took flight, not a single word had been exchanged between the two and Leanne couldn't even look at him.

(Hmm, come on Leanne, there has to be a way to spark a conversation. This is way too awakward for me!)

Although Michael had been the first to come and greet her, it didn't lead anywhere and now she was struggling to find a way to relieve this awkward atmosphere. Leanne painfully noticed that he one-month isolation at home had struck a fatal blow to her social skills, and as a result all she could do was fidgeting even though she used to be a teacher.

Little did she know that Michael was also struggling on his end.

What made this situation all the more awkward was not the act that they were complete strangers, but rather that they were both competiting in a secret war the likes you'd find in books for young readers.

Eventually, Leanne gave up on any attempt to restart the conversation. Instead, she glanced at Rider's Master, who looked lost in deep thoughts. Just like she first noted, he looked like someone you could simply meet in the street, not some sort of underground magician. If anything, he looked like a familyman slightly older than her, with a friendly feeling emanating from him. The heavy bags under his eyes seem to indicate he slept as little as Leanne.

(Come to think of it, if he is Rider's Master then it must mean Rider is there too. I can't see him though. Does he have the same ability as Berserker? It feels so weird!)

Once again, Leanne lost herself in her train of thought.

She wondered why he was Master. In her case, she obviously had no choice. It wasn't like she had been threatened by the 'Mage's Association', but in such a novel-like situation she could easily imagine that refusing was not an option. Yet, this man looked so normal she came to wonder about his reasons as well. She only pondered about it first, but before she could notice it she had asked the question out loud.

And she immediatly regretted it.

At first, Michael's eyes were shining when she finally broke the silence, but as soon as he understood her question, his expression grew serious at once.

(Nice going, Leanne. Way to break the ice with a family-friendly question; are you sure your social skills are the only thing that disappeared?!)

Maybe she had been too used to having her questions answered by REVOC. At any rate, she was even more nervous than before, trying to phrase a good apology but her mind refused to work. However, before she could add anything, Michael looked as though he was seriously considering the question.

"Why I became a Master? Well, because I was chosen by the Grail I guess..." He mused. "However..."

Michael had understood what her question really was. She was wondering why he had become a Master; the answer would be the same for all those participating in the war. Simply put, she was asking for his reason to actually fight. Leanne had been told it was a war they were participating in. To her, it was as surreal as it could get but this man was a magus. In other word, he probably understood better than her what it was he was getting in.

Understanding this, it seemed Rider's Master seriously pondered the answer. Then, as though he had reached a deadlock, he sighed na dleaned back on his seat.

"Honestly, I don't have any reason to fight in the first place. If I had simply been chosen as a Master I wouldn't have any reason to partcipate at all in the first place. It's probably possible to give the Command Seals away, but..."

It was possible?!

Leanne hadn't known about that. Yet even so, that's not what surprised her the most in Michael's reply.

"Then if it's possible to give them away, why did you keep them?! I can't believe someone like you would accept to fight if they didnt have too!...Ah..."

 _ *** Umineko – Sakutaro's Adventure**_

When she said that passionately, Leanne saw Michael giving her a weird look. She realized too, that she had said something strange, as though she knew what kind of person he was without having ever met with him at least once.

"Ah..erm..that's...it's just that...REVOC told me you were not a bad person, so I assumed..." She started stuttering confusely.

In front of her emabarrasment, it was Michael's turn to realize he had done a mistake.

"N-no, it's my fault. I must have looked at you weirdly, haven't I? Haha...sorry..." He started to apologize as well immediatly. They must have looked quite comic, saying sorry to each other for a simple slip of tongue. "But, REVOC? Hmm,...no, I don't remember someone named that way..."

"Ah, um, sorry, I had assumed you knew him since he was also a Master. Uhm, what was it already? I think he was Assassin's Master."

"Huh? That guy?!" Michael's head shoot up just as he understood who it was she was speaking of. "That's weird. I mean, I've barely seen him a couple times and he looked really shady...Ah, sorry. If he's complimenting me even though we don't know each other, I guess I shouldn't say things like that about him. Hehehe..."

Michael scratched his head as he apologized for his rudeness, apparently a bit embarassed. This made her chuckle lightly, which surprised her since it had been so long since she laughed for the last time. She understood Michael's embarassment; after all, she had also thought Assassin's Master was a shady looking person when she first knew him, and yet he had become an important person for her.

"Though, I'm happy to see he was right. The other magi I met up until now were..."

She didn't finish her sentence but given Michael's change of mood, he probably understood what she was about to say.

"Eh? Don't tell they treated you badly?! If that's the case, then tell Berserker to kick them out! No, wait, Rider and I will do that! I've been itching to show them what I thought of their manners!"

The way the friendly-looking man got all worked up was'nt vry threatening. Rather, there was a slightly childish feel in that statement that almost made him look comical. Even so, Leanne was really moved by his reaction. Like she said, up until now the people around her had made her feel as though she was all alone. But that had been wrong; REVOC, Berserker and Rider's Master...all of them had been caring for her. She felt so grateful she was moved to tears. At least, that's what she thought, but no tears came out; seh had spent too much of them brooding over her fate and she couldn't even shed tears of joy now.

"Ah -err, hm." Michael seemed to notice his reaction was a bit childish and he pulled himsefl back together, clearing his throat. "Excuse me, I went a bit overboard. Anyway, I wasn't finished..." His expression switched back to the one he had when he answered Leanne's question. "I can't possibly give up on fighting and run away."

"Huh? Why is that?"

"Well, for one that'd make me a bad father. And there's someone I made a promise I have to keep no matter what." He replied firmly.

"A bad father? I don't understand." Leanne sensed she was poking at a sensible subject, but she couldn't refrain from asking. Michael realized he had been unclear and cleared his throat a second time.

"Like I said, if I had simply been chosen by the Grail, they'd be no problem. But I'm not the only one: my nephew also received Command Seals. I have a feeling he'd deal with this kind of situation better than me, and he's my brother's son. But...he's like a son for me too you know. I can't possibly sit back and watch him risk his life without supporting him. Not only that, but my daughter was kidnapped by someone, probably an enemy in the war. I have to take her back no matter what, so I'll need Rider's strength! I can't possibly back down here, no matter what!"

Leanne could only look at him open-mouthed as he told her about his situation. It was terrible. As a mother herself, Leanne felt she would faint from stress if something like that had happened to her. However, the determination in Michael's eyes and the resolution in his voice as he said he would rescue his daughter made her feel admiration, as well as shame.

"You really are a good father to go so far to look after your children." She smiled weakly. "On the other hand, I guess I'm a bad mother. I'm here instead of being by my child's side."

She looked at her feet, returning to her brooding. That was the thing she did best apparently. But as she did, she heard Michael's voice next to her.

"That's wrong!" He stated with the same firmness as before. "Your situation is complicated, right? I won't ask about it, but I think it's incredible to be able to think of your children at a time like this. You're definitely not a bad mother." Michael really had a way with words. He was so confident in everything he said that this confidence was spreading to Leanne. "It's important to look after them, but I think they'll end up better than me anyway. So the best I can do is to care for them in the end. And, you know, I also had some times where I completely failed to be a father."

"Really? You're so dedicated, I can't imagine you being a bad father!"

"Well,...hahaha, it wasn't always easy..." Michael's cheeks turned a bit red and he scrathed his head. Apparently that was his way to hide his embarassment.

One way or another, the uncomfortable feeling that had been floating around between them at the beginning had completely disappeared. By now they had started discussing of their memories as parents, laughing and looking embarassed. Leanne's chest was so much lighter by now, her good mood was affecting Berserker as well and the aura of madness the Servant usually emitted was nowhere to be felt.

Eventually though, maybe it was because of the nostalgic atmosphere of the plane and because all her tension had died down, her eyelids suddenly felt really heaving and a drowsiness invaded her. She had rested so little lately that she was unable to fight back the sleepiness and, slowly, her eyes closed and she fell into the world of dreams.

* * *

 _ *** Higurashi – Iru**_

Rider sighed.

Eventually during her talk with Michael, she had yawned and fell asleep. Both Rider and Michael were thankful for that. It wasn't that thei discussion was annoying in the slightest -rather, Berserker's Master's face looked so exhausted and sleepy that they had worried about her. Rider didn't know why she was so tired, but she indeed needed to rest or else she would collapse of exhaustion on the battlefield. That's why they decided they would let her sleep as much as she needed until they were arrived.

Michael sighed as well.

Rider knew he had been more nervous than anyone at the idea of meeting Leanne. They didn't know the details, but Berserker's Master was a normal civilian. Considering the usual attitude of magi they could assume she hadn't been treated very well. And as much as he hated to admit it, Michael was a magus; he represented thepeople who had pulled her into this crazy battle known as the Holy Grail War. So of course he didn't know what to say to her. 'Hey there, we're forcing you to fight in a deadly tournament. But we're pals right?' just didn't cut it. That was why, his Master was relieved the conversation went so well.

Though...maybe there was more than that. Rider looked at his Matser's face. Something in his gaze was glittering, as though the conversation he held had woken upnostalgic memories inside him. That was the case, Rider figured.

 _Are you alright?_

 _Huh? Why wouldn't I be alright?_

Michael played dumb, but Rider could easily tell what he was thinking. It was something he had understood soon after being summoned, but his Master was someone who couldn't help but look after people, especially i they have something in common with him. Rider could guess he was feeling like he should look after Leanne as well.

It couldn't be helped, Rider concluded. Michael was worrying for others so much he didn't have the time to worry for himself. Well, that was Rider's role now; he couldn't fail inhelping his Master. It wasn't all; there was something Michael had said which had affected Rider.

 _A promise you have to keep no matter what, huh? Were you trying to sound cool or what?_

 _Shut up. It looks like there's some kid who need a good spanking._

 _That's right, try to spank my immaterial butt, old geezer!_

Heh, it seems like their bickering couldn't be helped as well. But, deep inside Rider felt a warm feeling because of this man he had acknowledged as his Master.

(Thank you, Michael.)

next, Rider redirected his attention to Berserker of Red who was just standing there. Technically, the giant of a man was immaterial and invisible to human eyes, but Servants like Rider could see him just well. The result was strange however: what Rider could see was an over two meters-tall brawny man floating around inside a plane that was obviously too small for him. Add to it the Servant's constricted and wrathful face, and you'd obtain a feeling that didn't quite fit the calm atmosphere of the plain. Contrary to Michael and Leanne who had a nice, relaxed chat Rider had been stared at by Berserker for hours and felt the need to hide somewhere.

Seriously though, Rider wondered how this beast-like man and him were supposed to be a similar existance.

On the other hand, he could only acknowledge Beserker's strength as a Servant. All of the Red Faction's Servant were top rank Heroic Spirit specially selected by the Mage's Association to win the war. The best exemples were of course the Saber Leo had summoned and this crazy woman Archer. Berserker didn't fall behind though. The Mage's Association had taken into account the fact that Leanne wasn't a magus and had selected a strange Berserker that wouldn't suffer from that fact. Simply put, Berserker of Red was a Heroic Spirit whose legend was filled only with feats realized under the influence of anger. As a result, even with Mad Enhancement taking away his sanity he still had some semblance of clear-headedness. It wasn't much but it would allow him to make the difference between allies and enemies. Moreover, it seems Berserker was conscious of the weight he was putting on Leanne's shoulders and was doing his best to limit his prana consumation.

For this reason, Rider had some respect for the mad warrior.

Still, they didn't know what they'd have to face. Hopefully there wouldn't be any opponents waiting for them in Denmark. They couldn't count on this though. Michael was overly worried for his nephew's situation, but he'd have to focus on their own battlefield for the time being.

* * *

 _ *** Umineko – Minute darkness**_

"Whoa, it's the first time I see something like that with my own eyes!" Leanne commented upon seeing the small town that was their destination.

The sign at the entrance read something along the lines of 'Harodg'. Michael knew beforehand what type of town it was but he still shared Leanne's surprise at the view of the small rural town of Harodg. Simply put, it looked like any old rural European town, with old houses of stone bricks, a stone pavement for a road which must have been partially covered in moss during the rest of the year, and the entire scenery covered in snow. In the distance they could see the belltower of a small church, but no one was ringing it although it was the time.

In the end, nothing happened during their plane trip; they landed without a problem. Same thing for the train trip, they didn't see the shadow of an opponent. Heck, they even had to walk on feet up until their destination because there was no train station in Harogd. That was how godforsaken this place was. Yet, they didn't as much as heard a suspicious noise on their way. Was all of Michael's precautions useless in the end? Or did nothing happen thanks to his precautions? There was no way to tell, but Michael hoped it was the former and that they had arrived here before New Edge.

Because if it was the opposit, this strange silence didn't augur well.

At any rate, they had entered Harogd and were making their way through the deserted streets. It wasn't that surprising for a rural town to be calm even during the day. However, the silence reigning over the small town was completely unnatural. Michael knew that was because the Enforcers sent here beforehand had set a Bounded Field to prevent any interuption from civilians. Leanne, on the other hand, seemed disturbed by the unnatural quietness.

As a side note, Berserker's Master's face had regained some color and energy thanks to her nap in the plane and in the train. At first she had been flustered for falling asleep, but thanks to Michael's and Rider(who had taken physical shape by then)'s joint efforts, she acepted to take some rest.

But the peer pressure in the air was worse than the awkward silence hours ago. Normally, Michael would have been apprciating the almost historical feel this town gave off, but there was a tension floating around that didn't allow for any distraction.

They weren't alone in Harogd of course. Soon enough they spotted the figures of several Enforcers discussing between them. When they too caught sight of Michael's group, the men dressed in suits came to meet them.

"Greetings. Are you the Masters sent by the Mage's Association?" One of the Enforcers, a tall man with mid-long blond hair, greeted them in a strange manner and went straight to the point.

"We are; I am Rider's Master. I came to transport the Grail Shard." Michael briefly replied. He didn't have the time to chat even if he wanted to. This silence was unnerving even for him.

The man simply nodded back and motioned to follow him. Before they departed though, Michael went to Leanne and put his hand on his shoulder. As he had expected, the woman jumped a little in surprise. She had been too focused because of the tension to even notice what was going on.

"Ms. Stormbird, can I ask you to simply stay here and wait for my return?" Michael asked in a low, reassuring voice.

"Huh?" Leanne was taken aback.

Surely she had expected that she'd have to follow after them. However, Michael had already made hi mind on that; the Grail Shard was located in the huge forest next to the town. In other words, if there was going to be battles, it would happen there. Rider and he had already agreed on not involvig Leanne more than necessary, so it was safer for her to stay behind.

"Is that alright?"

"Of course. You don't have to worry, after all we're just here to take the Grail Shard with us and then take flight with Rider's chariot."

That was true. Their plan wasn't to fight but to retrieve the Shard. The reason why the Enforcers hadn't done so even though it had been a few days since they found it, is because there was the possibility of New Edge attacking them on their way to the Clock Tower. They'd have no way to resist and the Red Faction would lose one of the Shards. That's why, Michael had been specifically sent because it'd be easier to transport with Rider's Noble Phantasm.

Although reluctantly, Leanne accepted Michael's offer to stay behind. Thus, Michael was now heading toward the forest with a group of Enforcers while Leanne and Berserker were in town with a few other magi.

Michael decided to leave his worries at that while they entered the forest covered on snow.

Michael wasn't used to leaving big cities to venture into the woods, but even he could appreciate the beauty of the place. The forest wasn't very dense but even in the dead of winter they kept their foliage bulky and, as a consequence, the sky was barely visible between the leaves.

 _I won't be able to summon my chariot if the sky isn't clear._ Rider complained.

It was true that they'd have to go back to Harogd if they wanted to take flight anyway, but it wasn't what he was meant. Basically, if they were to fight in this forest Rider couldn't use his Noble Phantasm.

 _We better make this quick then._

The forest rose steeply up a hill, and the noise of their steps in the snow was all that filled the silence. Even the wild life that should have been bustling in such a remote region was nowhere to be seen.

Finally, Michael saw it. No, rather, he _heard it_.

At some point the slope ended and, after walking a couple hundrer meters, he started hearing a strange regular noise akin to a heartbeat. At first, Michael thought they had reached a small clearing, but soon he realized it was nothing like a clearing. Simply put, the place Rider and Michael were guided to was a small crater of approximately twenty meters of diameter.

And at the middle of the crater, the Grail Shard.

Like a small meteor it was stuck in the ground. However, maybe 'stuck' wasn't a good word. Rather, it _fused_ with the ground: all around the piece of golden metal, there were golden veins running on the ground and pulsating in unison with the Grail Shard. It was as though the very heart of the forest was beating.

The very aura emanatting from this surreal piece of art was unsettling, as if the air was filled with mystery.

(Maybe that's why there are no animal nearby. In fact, it's hard to imagine nobody from Harogd was able to find something so strange during twelve years.)

That'd explain a lot actually.

At any rate, now that they were here they better do their job quickly and go back to the Clock Tower.

"Rider." Michael called out his Servant who was standing only a few feet behind him, and who had exchanged his casual clothes for a white chiton and a golden and red fabric. "Do you think you can extract it? It looks like it has become one with the earth..."

"Hmm, there shouldn't be any problem I think. Just watch!"

Rider cracked his knuckles and walked up to the Grail Shard.

* * *

Leanne gulped.

It was as simple as that, but in the uncomfortably quiet town she felt as though it was the loudest sound in the world. That was how disturbing it was. Or maybe it was because of Berserker's presence: ever since they had reached Harogd, the Servant reacted to Leanne's anxiety and was giving off a strong feeling of anger even in spritual form. Because of that, the magi who had stayed behind with her were giving her weird looks of annoyance.

It reminded her of her first contact with the Mage's Association and, rather than having to bear both the tension and their gaze, she decided to take a walk across the empty village.

She wasn't sure it helped though.

She had received a brief explanation about why there was no townfolks roaming around, but it didn't help her feel secure in the slightest. If anything, it was the same sensation as walking down an empty street at night with nothing but the noise of your footsteps to accompagny you. In other words, it felt as though anything could be waiting a the next turn.

It wasn't that scary though thanks to Berserker's presence giving her some confort. For once she was happy that he was following her everywhere.

But just as she thought that, Berserker suddenly started growling in her head, gettingall worked up for an unknown reason.

"Did you feel something, Berserker?" She whispered, half to Berserker and half to reassure herself.

Instead of answering (not that she expected a concrete reply either), Leanne felt Berserker's presence moving away from her like a dog that was chasing a cat.

"Wh -hey, Berserker?! Wait!"

Leanne stood still in shock for a couple second, but she eventually started to run frantically after her Servant.

"What's wrong?! Berserker!"

The giant of a man was so fast she couldn't realistically catch up with him; however, thanks to their special connection she could feel vaguely where he was. At the same time she was running, she noticed Berserker had stopped moving. She found the location where the Servant had ran off to, panting heavily and holding her side from this unexpected race.

"Berserker, what's wrong with you? I told you to wai-"

 _ *** Umineko – Prison strip**_

But her body completely froze when she saw what had attracted Berserker's attention.

"Ah..aah..." She wanted to scream but even that got stuck in her throat as she widened her eyes in shock.

It wasn't on the floor.

It wasn't on the wall.

It was hanging...

 _He_ was hanging!

"H...he's..."

In front of Leanne, there was a man in suit hanging from the roof of one of the old house. The cold winter wind caused the body to sway a little, like a child's swing. Right below it, the pristain white snow was covered by something liquid and red.

 _Plick..._

 _Plock..._

It was dripping drop after drop from the man's neck. Because her mind was frozen in shock, Leanne naturally looked up to see where it was coming from.

Then she fell on the floor when she saw the man's face. He had an expression of terror and confusion, as if he had suddenly realized he was hanging in the air and... _had his throat sliced open_.

But it wasn't the most shocking. Leanne knew; she had alredy seen the man before. It was a tall man with mid-long blond hair.

 _He was the same man who had greeted Michael and Rider and guided them to the forest._

"Wh...What's going?!"

* * *

"They arrived? I see. Did you confirm they were both Masters? Yes. It's perfect then. What about the situation then? They split up? Now that's unexpected. I thought they would stick together. Oh well, it's not a problem. At least one of them entered the forest. The rest we can handle."

The man's face was split n two by a carnivorous smile as he added in the radio:

"Begin the operation."

* * *

It all happened in a second.

Rider was about to pull the Grail Shard out of the forest's ground when screams of pain rose behind them, accompagnied by the sound of flesh being sliced. Michael turned around immediatly, but the only thing he was able to see was the group of Enforcers that had led him here lying dead on the ground, their throat freshly sliced open. One of them had some kind of small blackish knife stabbed in his heart.

That was all Michael had the time to notice on the moment. No, he also noticed something else: on of the men was nowhere to be seen, neither on his legs or crouching on the ground like the others.

He wasn't given any more time to analyse the situation.

That was because something came flying toward him at the same time he turned around; something glittering in the sunlight.

Suddenly, there was a noise of metal clashing against metal and, next thing Michael knew, Rider was standing in front of him with his sword drawn. What had been flung toward Michael and was now lying on the ground was...

"A...kunai...?"

Immediatly, something moved around them. Neither Michael nor Rider were able to see exactly who or what it was as it danced around the trees with the agility of a panther. However, it was quite easy to understand it was their opponent.

The shadow circled around them like a shark waiting to strike, all the while throwing other kunai in their direction. Rider did his best to intercept them all; during this short time, Michael managed to pull himself back together and prepared a spell.

It was virtually impossible for him to hit precisely a target moving so fast. So instead, he prepared an explosive spell and aimed at a spot the shadow was moving toward. His plan worked and, dodging the explosive projectile, the enemy jumped several meters in the air to land on a tree branch

Now that it had come to a stop, the Master and Servant could finally see what they looked like. The shadowy figure staring at them from above was a large human being entirely clad in black which hid any recognizable feature. On their face they were wearing a Japanese red oni mask.

But they weren't the only person here.

Soon after, they could hear the sound of someone walking calmly in the snow. Then, in complete constrast with the situation, a young man dressed like a business man with perfectly dressed hair came out from behind a tree.

He didn't look tense in the least. He faced toward Michael and Rider who just stood there, waiting to see what to do next. As if oblivious of the overall atmosphere, he gently waved his hand toward them with a large smile across his face.

"Hey, hello there! Sorry for not introducing myself. I am Alexander Lendric -Assassin of Black's Master."

* * *

At the exact same moment Michael and Rider were attacked in the forest, something happened at Harogd.

"!"

"What's going on?!"

The magi who had stayed behind were suddenly alerted by the bounded fields surrounding the town. Something had crossed the defended perimeter and was heading toward their location at high speed. And it wasn't only one: there was three of them!

"Gh, who could poddibly attack at the front like th-"

 _BANG!_

One of the Enforcers was preparing a strong spell to repel off whoever it was that was trying to assault them. But before he could even finish his sentence, there was a loud sound of a sniper rifle firing. The next moment, the man fell heavily on teh ground like a puppet that had had its strings cut off, with a red and hot hole in the middle of his forehead.

The magi were too astounded, too unused to such a thing that they didn't react in time: what had triggered the alarm were three black vans moving fast across the streets. As soon as they came in view of the remaining magi, they came to a full stop and people dressed in white poured out of it in a very organized way. All of them were dressed similarly and were armed with strange machine guns.

Immediatly, they opened fire ruthlessly. All of the Enforcers standing there were irremediably killed. Even those who had set up protection Bounded Fields and Mystic Codes to protect them were completely shred to pieces.

Leanne wasn't there to behold the scene, but she realized something was going off when she heard the car engines and the noise of firearms.

But she didn't have time to understand what it meant that something grabbed hold of her and, before she knew it, she was going up.

 _BANG!_

At the same time, another sound of sniper resounded. Fortunately, it missed its initial target.

"Huh? Beserker!"

When she came to her sens, Leanne noticed she was in Berserker's arms, the latter having jumped on a nearby roof to ascape from the attack.

"Berserker are you alright?! You're bleeding!"

Leanne was right: on Berserker's thigh, a trickle of blood was running down. Although it looked like a mosquito's bite on the massive Berserker, it was nonetheless a gunwound. Leanne didn't question it; after all, guns were supposed to hurt peopel. What she ignored was...

That modern weapons were supposed to be ineffective against Servants.

Berserker let out a beastly roar and pounded on the sniper dressed in white. It wasn't as much of an attack than it was Berserker simply walking over the enemy. The mere strength of the charge completely pulverized half the sniper's body while the other half was sent flying.

* * *

"Ha? Did it finally get started?"

The person who said those words was neither in the crater where the Grail Shard was resting; nor were they in the streets of Harogd.

Somewhere in the forest, a strange man was sitting. Calling him a man would feel strange – a giant might be more correct. Even compared to the bulky Berserker of Red, this man easily reached the three meters in size. As for what he was sitting on, at first sight it way have looked like snow but...

"Seriously, is there only preys like that running around?"

In truth, the giant was sitting on a pile of corpses. The reason they could have looked like snow was because they were wearing the same uniforms as the soldiers who were raiding Harogd. I fact, there were a lot of them lying around left and right, like animals that were hunted and killed mercilessly.

And they weren't the only ones.

In his large hand, the man -Lancer of White was holding a ridiculously long black spear that could have been used to hunt a whale. Impaled on this spear like some sort of macabre brochette were the corpses of other soldier. In total, the number of corpses in this very place was even higher than the number of people who attacked the town.

Lancer of White stood up and swung his spear which as a result sent all the people impaled on it were sent flying in all direction. But the spearman payed them no heed.

His body was black -unnaturally black, like dark wood. His eyes were inhuman as well: the sclera was entirely pitch black, and the iris were like blood red dots gleaming.

Lancer of White turned those terrifying eyes in direction of Michael's location. Then, he turned his head toward the city.

"Who shall I hunt down first? Hmm." Then, his eyes finally locked on Harogd. A slasher smile flashed across his face. "He...hehehe...I smell more preys on this side."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _Sorry everyone, I know it's been a long time since I uploaded a chapter but I eventually managed to finish it._

 _So, another battlefield, another group of Masters. Haha, I guess you had forgotten about them... Though hopefully after a few chapters you won't be able to forget them._

 _What did you think of having music added in? I personally think it helps regarding the atmosphere of the scene. I only picked music from Visual Novels so that they wouldn't feel out of place with a written text. Please tell me what you thought of it!_

 _I don't have much to say this time. I'm happy to hear that people were looking forward to the next chapter; as a writer, I think nothing could make me more happy!_

 _Once again, thank you for reading this chapter! Dont hesitate to review, comment or ask a question!_

 _~Legends Storytellers_


	13. Chapter XII: A Deal with the Devil

_A/N: Hi, everybody, and welcome to this new chapter of Fate/Rongodamiant! Following the comments about the music in the last chapter, I figured it would be better to add a list of the muscis I'm going to use at the beginning of teh chapter, so that you don't have to stop reading and look for them when they come up._

 _So here are the musics that'll be used in this chapter:_

 _ *** Umineko – Yorumi**_

 _ *** Umineko – Witch in gold (cembalo)**_

 _ *** Rose Guns Days – mission No. 023**_

 _ *** Rose Guns Days – Axelle-ratio**_

* * *

 _ *** Umineko – Yorumi**_

How many time had he seen this dream already? He couldn't tell. Because they shared a mental bond, every now and then they'd be able to see each other's memories in their dreams. It was always a strange experience, but not only because the sensation was different from that of a dream. While it could be said he was witnessing his Servant's past with his own eyes, it would be more accurate to say that he was reliving his memories with him. That meant, that he wouldn't only see and hear, but he could also smell and feel, including his Servant's emotions and his thoughts. Though that was the case, he had only seen the same scene happen again and again, night after night.

Or at least that's what Michael thought.

Only later did he realize that what he saw each time wasn't exactly the same dream. Each dream was in truth a continuation of the former. But that fact was actually extremely...depressing.

It started the same way each time: first, it became harder the to breath. In fact, that was an understatement; it felt as though only half the intended quantity of air would enter his lungs, while half that volume was wasted when he exhaled. His mouth and his throat would suddenly dry up, and the inside of his lungs would be filled with a burning sensation.

He wanted air.

He needed air.

He was breathing with dificulty, to the point he'd become feverish and his eyes would start crying. Everytime he breathed in, it was though he was swallowing glass shards. Everytime he breathed out, the precious air was lost.

It was like that, again and again, endlessly. The aching pain of his lungs begging for air reverbated through his body like ripples on the surface of water. Because of the pain, he didn't actually have a good evaluation of time, so what felt like an eternity might actually be nothing more than a few minutes.

Because at some point, a pain different than the one filling his chest would be felt. It was the aching of his hands and his feet, the strain of muscles that had been used more than they should. His also felt pain on the surface of his hands: they had slowly become worn out to the point he couldn't feel anything. He just moved them, same for his feet. That's right, he was moving.

One by one, all the muscles in his body seemed to wake up, quickly followed by pain and fatigue. With each heartbeat, his whole body pulsated at once, and his arms and legs were losing a bit of their strength. His body was screaming to stop, yet he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop, even if he wanted to. Because his heart was screaming to keep going. Because he knew that if he gave up now, he would never be able to do it ever again.

 _I must go on. I must go on. I must on...!_

He kept repeating the same word in his head, like a song he had learnt and was afraid of forgetting if he doesn't practice it until he had engraved it in his head.

They said there is someone in Hades who had been punished by the gods and was forced to push a boulder up a hill for eternity. Maybe that was exactly what was going on right now? He repeated the same movement tirelessly, pouring all of what was left of his strength into every movement he made, refusing to give in to fatigue nor to pain.

He was climbing. Or at least he thought he was. He felt his hands grabbing something hard, stone probably, and his legs pushing him up again and again in a mechanical motion. Sometimes he'd need to search around for a hold to grasp with his hands. Some other times, he would misplace his foot and nearly fall off.

A strong wind was looking out for any opportunity to blow him away. He knew that if he ever fell down, there'd be no second try; only death waiting for him at the bottom. But at the bottom of what? What was he climbing with so much determination that his body was crumbling down?

And when he starts wondering that, his eyes'd fill with light...

There was no accurate word to describe what it was that he saw. It seemed he was climbing up a pillar. Yet, it was too natural to be called a pillar. The only word that came to his mind as he shared Rider's memory was ' _mountain_ '. It was ridiculous of course: there was no way a mountain could have a form such that it looked like a giant arm supporting the sky. However, that place Michael could observe through Rider of Red's eyes wasn't from this world; it was somewhere out of the reach of mere mortals, somewhere no bird could fly.

It was...a place that didn't exist anymore in this world.

If he looked down at the base of the mountain, he wouldn't be able to see anything, because he had since long gone beyond the sea of cloud that separated the world of mortals and the heavens where the gods resided. The beauty of the scenery was breathtaking; the lonely pillar in the middle of the sea of clouds cast a similarly lonely shadow, and the colors of the setting sun were reflecting on the white mountain's surface.

But this beautiful world was hostile to man. He shouldn't be here. Or should he? He didn't know. He didn't know. He didn't know!

But...that was exactly to out this that he was raising his pitifully weak arms to the sky and holding onto the white stone with his coarse hands.

He was all out of food or water, and his stomach hurt so much he almost couldn't feel it anymore. His body wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer either. To be sure, this world wasn't made for a human to live in.

And yet...

And yet...!

How many had Michael seen that dream?! He had realized at some point, although it wasn't clear, that Rider was making progress. That he wasn't just seeing the same memory again and again. Just how long had this boy been climbing this mountain? Just how long had he been holding on, even though his body should have run out of strength already?!

Every time he coarsely breathed in, Rider's body felt an unbearable pain.

Everytime he moved his arm to reach higher, his body threatened of falling apart.

So why...why didn't he stop?

 _Father..._

Why did he have to go so far?

 _...can...it..._

Why did he have to go through that...for such a simple wish?

 _...I...can do it...! I'll find you...father!_

* * *

 **A Deal with the Devil**

* * *

 _ *** Umineko – Witch in gold (cembalo)**_

Michael and Rider of Red were puzzled, to say the least, at the situation at hand. Assassin of Black -or so said the man who just now appeared- was looking down at them from the tree branch he had landed on. His eyes were locked on the pair, observing each and every one of their movements. Everything had happened with thirty seconds or so, not long enough to even call it a fight, and both side were just now staring at each other, waiting for something to happen. That was why, no matter who looked at this scene, they would tell you tension was weighting heavily on the atmosphere.

And yet, none of that tension showed on the face of the man who had just appeared from behind a tree and called himself Assassin of Black's Master. That man, who had reffered to himself as Alexander Lendric, was much younger than Michael, probably in his early thirties, and was dressed up like a businessman from head to toe. If this had been a reunion for some international company, the man named Alexander would have passed off as a confident and promising employee; that is to say, he would have stood out but he wouldn't have looked out of place in any way. However, in this snowy forest that had become a battlefield for magi and Servants alike, his presence felt completely unnatural: from his calm manners to his confident and serene smile, nothing about him screamed that he was a Master. Yet, he had carefreely come out of hiding and presented himself as Assassin of Black's Master.

No Master in their right mind would appear in person in a fight between superhuman beings like Servants, especially if their own Servant was unfit for close range fighting like the Assassin class was. Moreover, there was no trace of any Mystic Code or weapon on Alexander, bare a handgun which form could be discerned beneath the business clothes, and which couldn't possibly hurt a Servant. In spite of it all, the man had come out as if it was natural to do so. In a way, it was this contrasting normality that made him more menacing than the other people present.

Rubbing his hands together because of the cold, Assassin of Black's Master tilted his head as if Michael was the one acting weird, but his expression remained the same.

"Ah, sorry. Didn't you hear me? I said I'm Alexander Lendric, Assassin of Black's Master." He repeated while pointing at the black Servant perched on his branch. "I would like to know your name as well..."

Alexander paused and his fake smile widened.

"...Michael Argas."

(Tch-! He's kidding me...!)

Alexander seemed to notice Michael's irritation, but simply shrugged and took a small square object from his pocket. It was the height of ridiculous, but the small object was a business card which Alexander then nonchalantly threw toward Michael. The latter caught it warily, but there didn't seem to be any spell cast on it. It was a simple and common business card. Over it were written a name and a phone number: ' _New Edge_ _Corporation_ _. Chairman Alexander Lendric. XX51685499'_.

"Chairman...?" Michael looked at the improbable man who was waiting patiently.

"That's right! Maybe it would make it easier to say I'm the leader of the Black Faction though."

"..."

Michael's doubts were confirmed: this man was dangerous. There was no way someone who had created a magi organisation and was seriously threatening the Mage's Association would be dumb enough to show up unprepared.

 _Rider, we need to get away as soon as possible. This whole situation is probably a trap. We have to meet up with Leanne...!_

Rider, who had been on his guard the whole time, didn't answer, but the grip on his sword tightened and his face tensed up further. Catching on their intention, Alexander waved his hand energically.

"Wait, wait! I don't want any of that! I didn't come here to fight you." Despite his panicked tone, Alexander's expression remained as undisturbed as ever, and every word coming out of his mouth sounded fake.

"Right, and I bet that attack earlier was a sign of friendship, am I right?" Michael jeered. "Why don't you come here and kiss me, so that I can give you a 'proof of friendship' as well?"

"Haha, please don't mind it!" Assassin of Black's Master simply shrugged Michael's words off. "I seriously came here to speak between Masters participating in the Holy Grail War."

"And what do you want, my number? Sorry but I'm not interested in weirdos like you."

"My, your offer is tempting. But I'm afraid I don't need you to tell me." Alexander replied as he pointed his finger at the business card in Michael's hands.

Michael didn't understand what he meant, though he had an uneasy foreboding. His heart missed a beat when he looked at the other side of the card. It was the same as the other side, with a name, an adress and a phone number... _except those were all his!_

Alexander seemed satisfied by Miachael's reaction, and he let out a chuckle contrasting with his neat appearance.

"Michael Argas: forty-two, without partner but has a twenty-three year old daughter named Maria Argas. Oh, but there's also your older brother's son, Leonidas Argas, who's been living at your home until one year ago, isn't it? And he has also been selected as a Master, for Saber no less! Such a lucky fellow, getting to summon a knight of the Round Table!"

A shiver ran down Michael's spine, and he felt a cold sweat, colder than the harsh winter temperature. How much did that man know?! It was one thing to investigate his background, but how did they know Michael was a Master in the first place?! Not only that, Alexander also knew about Leo. This could only lead to one dreadful answer...

But Alexander didn't stop here, and kept on talking even as Michael was reflecting on the meaning of those words.

"Leonidas Argas: eighteen, the son of Inheim Argas. That would be your older brother, right? Though, I was told you two have been at odds for a long time now. Yet even still you accepted to look after his son! Such a good father, I wish I was your son! Not that I ever had to complain about mine, mind you, but a dead father doesn't amount to much."

"I already said you're not my type, asshole." Michael interrupted him. One way or another, he had to cut the conversation short, that was what his instinct was telling him. "If you have something to say, say it. I don't plan on listening to your family stories forever."

As he said that, Michael took a small step to his right, closer to Rider. It had only been a small step, but he was now within Rider's arm reach.

 _Rider, we need to pick up the Shard and get away ASAP. How fast can you do it?_

 _It would only take a second. But that would be enough for that bastard to kill you three time, Michael. That's a dangerous plan no matter how I look at it!_

 _Yep. Well, it's not like we came here expecting to have a tea part with them, right? Moreover, we still have something up our sleeve that they aren't expecting._

 _Which is?_

 _Why do you think we summoned our Caster for? Anyway, it would take you a second you said? Okay, I think I might be able to save that much time. But then what?_

 _What do you mean, what?_

 _I can't believe that basterd came here with just his Servant._

That bad feeling Michael had upon seeing Alexander for the first time, crept up in his mind. And as if to confirm his worries, Assassin's Master clapped his hand together enthusiastically, as of he just had a stroke of inspiration.

"What, you're leaving already? That won't do, Michael! I did say I came here to speak with you, so it really wouldn't do if you left before I was done talking. Now, I'm sure you know better than upsetting the person who has you in the palm of their hand."

"In the palm of their hand? Could you elaborate ple-"

 _!_

It happened all of sudden, cutting off Michael's sentence: without any warning, a gunshot rang out, immediatly followed by the noise of metal clashing againt metal, and something moved in front of Michael before the latter could blink. This happened within an instant, and for a moment, Michael felt time stopping around him. It was only his impression though, for soon enough time resumed and he could feel his heart racing like crazy. It took him a moment to realize what had happened in this split second: someone had fired at him, and Rider intervened to block the bullet.

 _Wh-what was that?!_

 _Michael, are you alright?!_

 _Calm down, I am. But what the hell was that, who fired at me?_

 _I don't know, but they're not very close. I couldn't give you the exact distance, but the shooter isn't in the area._

"Fuck." Michael eventually sweared, letting out a breath of relief. He had almost died here, just like that. It was scary just to think about it, yet it helped him remember where it was they were. "What kind of magus uses snipers in a Holy Grail War?!" He complained to Alexander.

"Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, really." The man in question waved his hands in a peaceful manner, but his huge grin told Michael otherwise. "I was raised by my father, you see. Not a magus, but a proud soldier, sir! That's probably where I got that...un-magus-like side of me." He rambled on as his fingers slightly stroke the shape of the gun under his clothes.

 _Michael, that's bad._

 _What do you mean? I mean, snipers are a pain but as long as long can deflect the bullets we still have a chance._

 _That's not what I'm talking about! I don't much about guns, but since I was able to stop it they must be using a regular gun._

 _Where are you getting to?_

 _It was only for an instant, but I could feel it clearly: that buller was a Noble Phantasm!_

 _Huh? How?!_

 _I don't know, you old geezer! Hm, rather than Noble Phantasm, I should say it had the same presence as a Servant's weapon._

 _Does that mean they have a sniper Servant on their side?_

That was not possible. It was technically possible to summon a modern Servant, it was not possible for them to have modern weaponry. There were peobably a few snipers that could fit in the Assassin class, but there was already an Assassin of Black in front of them.

 _I don't think so. I already told you that I'm not a specialist of those modern stuff, but I'm pretty sure it was fired from a normal gun._

 _So only the bullet is special, huh?_

"My, it seems my demonstration had more effect than I expected." Alexander chuckled. "But as you can see, I'm quite a good son, am I not? Family is very important after all. You should know that after all, shouldn't you? When was it...one or two weeks ago right? That poor Maria was kidnapped."

"!" Suddenly, Michael lost all intention of escaping. Instead, he raised his incredulous eyes to look at Alexander whose eyes seemed to be filled with a malicious glint. "You bastard. So it was you who kidnapped her after all!"

Michael felt the blood pounding through his temples and his vision tunring red, filling his mind with a craving desire of strangling Alexadner with his own hands. But the latter raised his hands in the air as if saying _'I'm innocent!'_ and laughed it off.

"No it wasn't! Really, I wouldn't even think of kidnapping her. But you know, rumors circulate quickly when you look for them just a little. Anyway, I did say I was not done talking."

 _Michael, don't let him unset you! We need do et out of these woods or I can't fight properly!_

Rider was right, but something kept Michael from listening to him. Something was gnawing at the back of his mind.

"Then, who was next already? Hmm...ah right! There is Toriyama Hatsuyo, Lancer's Master. She's the head of a Japanese magus family, and currently the only member still alive. How unlucky! Then there is Ladylee Vasilia, the young Master for Archer of Red. She's just a little girl, but her Servant sure seems powerful! Charles Pendleton, a first class magus and the Master of Caster of Red. He's probably the most competent of the Red Faction when it comes to magecraft, and there is no saying what his Servant is capable of. I don't know anything about Assassin's Master though...how scary! If I were you I wouldn't trust such a shady individual. Finally we have Leanne Stormbird. Unrelated with the Mages' Association in any way, and not even a magus. Forced to participate as a Master it seems. My, the Clock Tower sure has some efficient methods, don't they? My, my."

Michael just wanted to jump at Alexander's throat, but what he just heard acted as a cold shower. His fears were confirmed: there was no way Assassin of Black's Master could have obtained all these information just by looking around. That could only mean one thing.

There was a traitor among the Red Faction. Or maybe not, on second thought. It was impossible for it to be one of the Masters of Red. The reason why Michael thought that was because Alexander had clearly called Saber a 'knight of the Round Table'. However, there were only two Masters who knew what catalyst Leo would use, and was Michael and the actual Master of Saber, Leonidas Argas. Moreover, the rest of the Red Faction didn't even get to see Saber yet. That meant only Leo could have leaked this information, but that wasn't possible either. Firstly because Michael knew Leo would never do that. Secondly, also because he never had the occasion to and because he barely met the rest of the Red Faction.

So in the end, whoever the traitor was, they weren't part of the Masters. Michael didn't stay long enough at the Clock Tower to know who would betray them. Then who? Who? Whowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowhowho-

 _Michael!_

Just as he was starting to go crazy, Michael's thoughts were interrupted by Rider wh was casting him a worried glance.

 _That's not like you, old geezer! Right now we've got to find Leanne and get as far away from this place as possible._

 _Y-you're right, I'm sorry._

Damn it. Michael was the one who said they'd spare Leanne the fighting, yet he was letting Alexander's presence and his accumulated stress get the better of him. Rider had a point, he would have all the time in the world to think later once they'll be out of danger. And for it to be a latter, he'd have to focus on the situation at hand. Namely, how to take the Shard away with them while avoiding both Assassin of Black and the hidden sniper.

 _Rider, can you tell the direction the bullet came from?_

 _Hm, I think it came from right behind him...a little bit above._

 _Seeing as he came specially to greet me, the chances are high he brought more than one sniper with him._

 _Sorry but I can't spot them if they don't attack first, old geezer._

 _I know! But...he should have chosen something else than snipers._

 _What do you mean?_

Michael looked at their surroundings: right now, they were in the middle of a forest with trees big enough that they were hiding the sunlight. And there were no elevation high enough to give a good view on the crater. In other words, wherever the snipers were, they were inside the forest, and on the ground. That's why, Alexander should have chosen something else than snipers because Michael could easily get past that difficulty thanks to the cover of the trees. Even if those bullets could blast trees away, if they couldn't spot Michael and Rider in the first place they wouldn't be of much use. If they had to face footsoldiers on the other hand, their escape would have been much more dangerous. And if Rider was right, those wielding the sniper rifles were probably humans as well...

 _Yes, that should do it. I don't think the snipers will be able to get in the way once we'll be cutting through the forest. Which means our main problem..._

His eyes wandered back to the Master and Servant facing them.

 _...are those two bastards._

The Assassin class was filled with Servant of great Agility capable of sneaking even in the most well-guarded fortress. In other words, this dark forest was advantegeous for Assassin of Black who had already proved his speed and nimbleness when he tried to kill Michael earlier. If they tried to escape, he would be their main obstacle. However, that was nothing new and Michael still had a card up his sleeve that should equilibrate the odds. As for Alexander...well, it was unknwon what he was capable of. He was dangerous, but in a different way than Assassin.

Speaking of Alexander, the latter hadn't moved while Michael was busy planning their escape. He was still looking at them with his mocking grin. Actually, his expression hadn't changed since the beginning, but the more Michael looked at him, the more he could discernate the cruel glint in the man's eyes.

"Maria Argas." As if to agree with him, Alexander suddenly spoke a name that caused Michael's body to contract as if he was withstanding a hit. "Twenty-three, Michael Argas' only child. Quite a talentuous magus I heard; but since Inheim already has a son, she can't be the heiress. Her and Leonidas are quite close, aren't they? I can only imagine how much he must want to rescue her...She likes reading, studying and synergology..." As Michael was listening, he was unconsciously bitting the inside of his cheek as hard he could. Alexander paused for a moment, after what his grin slowly turned into a devilish smile. "...and quite the pretty sleeping face as well."

Michael's mouth filled with taste of blood. He didn't know what expression he was making, but he was glarring at Alexander so intently he could feel his gaze stabbing in the man's face.

As he watched Michael's silent suffering, Alexander let out a chuckle fitting the smile adorning his face.

"My, how scary! So scary I want to hide! But I didn't lie you know: I didn't kidnap her. In fact, I didn't even give an order to do so. But alas, it seems one of our member has more than a little affection for Ms. Argas. Perhaps you've heard of a young girl named Silvelune Arbonnaux?"

"Silvelune..." The name, which Michael hadn't expected to hear, brought back the memory of a frail girl in a armchair, too weak to become a first-class magus. "What about her?"

"Hm, you really don't understand? Ms. Arbonnaux is one of our Faction's members..."

Alexander didn't need to say anything more for Michael to put the pieces together. Before taking the boat which was assaulted, Maria had said she's be bringing a friend with her. It wasn't like she had only one friend, so Michael didn't put more thoughts than that into it. But if that friend was Silvelune Arbonnaux, and if Alexander was saying the truth...then it all fitted together. But why would Michael reveal the identity of the person who kidnapped Maria? Was it just a slip of the tongue...or was it on purpose?

Whatever, Michael could now see where Alexander was going.

"Now, we find ourselves in quite an interesting situation, wouldn't you say? My Faction so happen to have the relative of two Masters of Red in its hands. By the way, I still haven't said what I wanted to tell you, Michael Argas." Alexander's face had by now lost all trace of friendliness, and he was just smiling cruelly. "Though you probably already know what I'm about to say." He spread his arms wide as though he was welcoming an old friend. "Why don't you join our side, Michael Argas? After all, the more Masters we have in our Faction, the greater the chances of defeating the Mage's Association."

"So basically, you're threatening to harm my daughter if I don't join arms with you, is that it? Seriously, if that's what it was you could have gone straight to it instead of beating around the bush." Is what Michael said, but he wasn't fooling anyone: Alexander's chit-chatting had more effect than he was ready to admit.

"You don't have to take it like that! Rather, think of it as an opportunity to make the best choice. After all, what is in for you if the Mage's Association wins the war?"

"I get my daughter back."

"Is that it? Then why choose the hard way when it could be so much easier? Just think about it: you joining us, being reunited with your daughter immediatly and able to protect her by yourself. Do you really think you have enough political weight for the Association to care about your fatherly problem?"

"Nobody has any interest in joining a cunning bastard like you."

"...Is that so?" Alexander shrugged and shook his head. "You have no real reason to stay on the Clock Tower's side, do you...or, could it be you're hesitating because of your nephew?! Then there is no problem: he can join the Black Faction as well! What do you say about it?"

"Shut up. I already gave my answer. Leo doesn't need anyone's help, especially not the help of someone like you. That's why I never trusted businessmen..."

"You're wrong."

"?"

"Everyone needs help. In hope of achieving their goals and dreams, humans join together to become stronger than fate itself. You said no one had any interest in joining me, but you do realize how wrong you are, don't you?"

"..."

"What about your nephew?" He mused as he switched his normal, calm manner of talking for a more intense speech. "Will he really share your opinion on the matter? Won't he show himself more reasonable? After all I did hear he isn't very fond of the Mage's Association just like me. You said he didn't need my help, but will he really refuse an occasion to save his dear cousin if I give it to him on a silver plate? Well, can you?"

"He-"

"What about Lancer's Master?" The man continued, not letting Michael reply nor voice an objection. "I don't need to tell you the way Asian people are discriminated in the Mage's Association, especially for someone of little talent like her. And yet, she has an important duty as the head of her family. Then, why would she side with the Clock Tower? Why wouldn't she rather want to side with us and create a new Mage's Association that won't discriminate against her? What about Archer's Master? A little girl like her wouldn't be any hard to convince. In fact, how about I tell her she could save a young maiden by helping us?" At this point, Alexander wasn't hiding the mockery in his voice. "What about Caster's Master?! A first-class Magus surely has more than what he wants in the actual state of things. Or at least, that's what I would say if magi were ever satisfied! I wonder, between his seat in the Mage's Association, or having a hand in the new one, which one will sound more interesting to him? What about Berserker's Master? She's only being used by the Red Faction, I wouldn't be surprised if she kicked the bucket before the end of the war! Would she prefer the ones who lie to her and manipulate her, or those who can give her a shelter and help her?"

"..."

"See? Everyone needs help. And so do you. But it's alright: those who need help come to me. Now then, you still haven't given your answer clearly, Michael Argas."

"..."

"Do you realize which side is better now?"

"..."

 _ *** Stop music**_

Michael didn't answer immediatly. For a moment, all he did was stare blankly at Alexander while thinking deeply. Rider was beside him, still on the ready and glancing at him from time to time. For a while, no sounds could be heard inside the forest; however, Michael could hear the thundering of the fights in direction of the town. Those were reminding him he had little time on his hands. Finally, he sighed and took a couple steps to the left.

"...You say everyone needs help, but..." He shook his head in exasperation. "You look like you're the one who wants help the most, aren't you?"

 _ *** Rose Guns Days – mission No. 23**_

Alexander winced. It wasn't like his expression or his posture had changed in any way, but Michael could see his eyes fill with animosity. His smile was soon replaced by a hateful smirk.

"Then what will you do if I threated to kill Maria if you refuse to cooperate?" He asked in a dangerous tone. "What will you do, Michael Argas?"

"You speak too much, do you realize that? If you had gone and simply threatened me from the beginning, I may have hesitated a little, but you had to run your mouth. I don't think you're in any position to even touch Maria right now. In fact, you didn't bring any proof that you had her. That's why, even if the Black Faction is indeed the ones who kidnapped her, methink you can't even approach her!"

"...You're smarter than you look, you bastard." As if admitting defeat, Alexander shrugged, but he was also clenching his fists and had clearly lost any intention of negociating.

"And let me tell you one more thing, Alexander." For the first time, Michael called the man by his name. "You got the order wrong. It's not 'join me or I hurt your daughter'..." His eyes were burning with anger and determination. "...it's 'hurt her and _there'll be nothing between you and me, you piece of shit_ '!"

At the same moment, Michael sent a mental signal to Rider.

 _Rider, now!_

 _Roger!_

And with that, everything was set in motion: Rider's body blurred and disappeared of Michael's field of vision as the Servant placed his hands on the golden Shard embedded in the ground to pull it out. As expected, the opposing side wouldn't let them do as they please without intervening: another figure blurred and closed on Michael immediatly in a single deadly motion; that was, as a matter of course, Assassin of Black. But Michael had expected that much; Alexander on the other hand didn't have the lightning fast reflexes of his Servant, and probably couldn't completely make out what was happening.

By the way, Michael hadn't taken these two steps to the left before answering for nothing. The only sniper whose position they knew was the one located behind Alexander; now that he had moved to the left, Michael was under cover behind one of the trees! In other words, the only danger now was Assassin of Black. Since Rider was busy seizing the Grail Shard, in that second it would take him, Assassin wouldn't hesitate to do what his class was made for in the first place.

But, as Michael told Rider earlier, he still had a trick up his sleeve. Of course, it wasn't like Michael could see the movement of Assassin. That was why, in order to survive that one second that elt like an eternity, he had to do something that would stall Assassin no matter what. And there was nothing better to do that than to take him by surprise!

At the same moment he had given Rider the signal, Michael had moved his rigfht hand to his waist: more precisely, he grabbed the handle of the sword hanging at his waist. The sword in question was a short colichemarde, a Mystic Code Michael had put on after leaving the plane. But it was more than a plain Mystic Code: the Caster summoned by the Red Faction was a blacksmith specialized in creating legendary weapons! As such, he could create Mystic Codes on par with actual Noble Phantasm or even upgrade existing Mystic Codes. As such, most of the Master of the Red Faction were wielding Noble Phantasm with them! Of course, it's not like simply that was enough to put them on the level of Servants. But these special Mystic Codes were clearly on another level and could easily hurt Servants.

This time, it was Michael's turn to smile.

Faster than the eyes could follow, someone dashed toward someone else to kill them. And someone was holding on their sword, ready to unsheet it with all their might. Both of these action would take place in one second, yet it felt like time slowed. And at once, it resumed with someone yelling.

"Don't underestimate me!"

Michael skillfully drew the sword our of its sheet in a single slashing motion. He may not have looked like it, but he had some experience as a swordman! But he wasn't trying to slash Assassin with his blade, that would be a feet above his skills. However, the point of a Mystic Code was to cast a spell in the first place. In this case, Michael let his prana dwell in the blade of the colichemarde and cast a water spell on it. The moment he swung his sword, the blade drew an arc of water that soon turned into a giant blade of water. If Michael could only move as fast as a human, that water blade was as swift as a Servant!

Assassin realized that the moment the attack was unleashed, and the shadowy figure barely had the time to move out of the water blade's way before it mowed down the trees on its path. Because he had swung the sword diagonally, Alexander's head was barely spared by a few inches.

(I did it!)

The interminable second had passed. He had managed that one-second-stand off with a Servant!

But that didn't mean they were out of the woods yet. Michael had only bouht enough time for Rider to pull out the Shard. Now they had to escape, all the more since with the trees out of the way, the sniper would have a clear view on them!

"Hold tight, Michael!" Rider called out to his Master.

The Heroic Spirit of the Mount was back to Michael's side, but the latter wasn't allowed to take his eyes off Assassin of Red and Alexander. Surprisingly, Rider didn't have his sword in hand, but was instead holding his red chlamys with both hands like a whip.

"Hey, what is that for-" Michael wanted to ask but he was interrupted when Rider suddenly wrapped the piece of fabric around his Master's waist.

Michael understood. Rider grabbed both ends of the fabric and then tied it around his own waist. The result was that the two were now tied back-to-back in some sort of weird, shameful piggy-back ride. Michael's pride received a hit from being carried by someone younger than him, but they had no choice.

"Now full speed, Rider!" Michael shouted, before noticing someone didn't agree with it.

Both Assassin and Alexander had recovered from the initial surprise, and didn't look like they'd let them get away so easily. Assassin lept at the pair with a dagger in each hand, while Alexander took out his gun.

(That sucks...!)

Assassin aside, Alexander's gun was probably filled with bullets similar to the sniper's. Which mean he could hurt Michael as well as Rider. It was at that time that Rider started running, but not quickly enough for them do avoid the double danger. If Michael tried to attack Assassin, Alexander would shoot him.

(So the answer is obvious...!)

Michael firmly gripped the handle of his colichemarde and, the best he could while tied to Rider's back, he swung the magical sword down in Alexander's direction. After the previous attack, Assassin now knew the speed and range of the water blade, so if his Master was threatened, surely he would rescue him instead of going after th-

"Gh-aaah!" Michael let out a scream of pain as one of Assassin's daggers dug into his shoulder. "W...hat...?!"

Assassin didn't act like Michael had expected. By now the water blade had gone and sliced Alexander in two lengthwise. No, saying 'sliced in two' wasn't correct; rather, he was shred to pieces by the prana-induced blade.

Assassin had let his Master die.

(No...a fake...?)

Assassin was looking down on Michael's face as his knife was stabbed into Rider's Master's shoulder. As far as Michael could see, the Servant had showed no hesitation in attacking him instead of saving his Master. But for a Servant so weak, having a Master was important. Which meant, if he hadn't saved Alexander that was because he knew his death wouldn't impede him. Or that he was actually in safety. Considering all the precautions Assassin's Master had taken up until now, a body double wasn't surprising. But now, Michael had death staring at his face from above.

* * *

"Michael!" While Michael was thinking, Rider who had heard his scream of pain turned around at lightning speed.

The sudden volte-face came as unexpected for Assassin, who was thrown out of balance before landing skillfully on the ground, right in front of Rider who looked at him in anger. Of course, Michael couldn't see all of that since he was on Rider's back.

Once again, it was all a matter of one second. Assassin didn't seem to consider retreating to be an option, and as he was facing Rider; he held his remaining dagger in his hand and suddenly disappeared of Rider's field of vision to reappear above him. Mercilessly, the shadowy figure swung his blade down on Rider's cranium.

"!"

Or so he intended to, but something happened that was completely out of his expectations: as he was about to kill Rider of Red, someone slammed their fist into his arms, effectively preventing his action. During a split second, Assassin wondered how Rider could have followed his movements, before he noticed it wasn't Rider's hand that had hit him, but Michael's!

"I told you...not to underestimate me!" Rider's Master, who was sweating heavily and was frowning in pain, was looking back from behind Rider with an air of determination.

(Impossible...!) Assassin thought. It was impossible a wounded Master clinging to his Servant could have-!

But he was so surprised Assassin forgot for a second that he was in a fight. Rider didn't fail to notice Michael's action, and Assassin missed his chance to fall back. The Servant of the Mount didn't have his sword in hand, as it would just hinder him when he had to transport his Master. Instead, he grabbed Assassin's arm with both hands, and threw the Servant into a tree with a technique similar to a judo throw, but different in essence.

Although he was taken by surprise, Assassin quickly pulled himself together, and instead of slamming painfully into the tree trunk, he gracefully used his feet to absorb the impact, and used the momentum to dash toward Rider with tremendous speed. In term of speed, Assassin had the upper hand on Rider who wasn't a Servant meant to fight on foot. His dagger aimed at his opponent's throat, Assassin pounded on Rider like a dart.

(Die!)

The small metal glint closed in on Rider's throat.

Before stopping abruptely.

It wasn't Assassin who had stopped his movement; he meant to take Rider's life with this action in the first place. What had saved Rider...was Rider himself. Even though Assassin was supposed to be superior both in speed and in nimbleness, his attack had been interrupted by an uppercut diving into the Silent Killer's stomach. As he delivered his punch, Rider was looking right into Assassin's eyes. The latter wasn't given the time to recover that other punches followed. The first was a straight fist which rammed into Assassin's solar plexus, while the second was a hook that hit his temple. Rider completed his assault by a kick meant to sweep Assassin off his feet.

However, Assassin wasn't so stunned that he could react. He dodged Rider's leg with a rash backflip, and landed on a tree branch in order to have some height. Yet, as he fell back he felt all the weight of Rider's attacks on his body. For an instant, he felt nauseous and his respiration was cut.

He didn't understand.

Rider's attack weren't crude punches meant to fight back in a pinch. There was clearly some technic behind it, but Assassin couldn't make it out. Because Rider's first action had been to throw him, he had thought it was similar to judo, but then Rider had clearly used some boxing and used his legs! That was because Assassin was a Japanese Heroic Spirit, although his homeland had plenty martial arts, he had never witnessed Pankration.

When he was able to move his body at his will again, Assassin looked for Rider of Red who hadn't used the occasion to strike him down. Which was because he wasn't there anymore!

"Tch, they fled!"

* * *

"I'm sorry! I'm so, so, so sorry Michael!" Rider apologized as he raced through the woods. "Because of my carelessness you were injured!"

"Stop running your mouth and run your feet some more!" The bleeding Michael replied, annoyed at his Servant's repeated apologies. "Rather, I didn't know you had moves like these!"

"Hrm, well, that was part of my eductaion...hehe..." Rider blushed slighty at the compliment. "I mean, anyone cou-"

"Watch the road, you're running into a tree!"

"Wha, s-sorry!"

In the end, Michael and Rider did manage to escape, although it wasn't without a few hitches along the way. No, compared to what their chances were, it was a miracle everything went so well. They had even knocked Assassin out a little, so they had gained some ground between them and the Silent Killer. They couldn't be too optimistic however: Assassin was faster than Rider, and there was the possibility that there was some other enemies inside the forest.

When he attacked Michael, Assassin had made sure to hit the shoulder of the arm which wielded his Mystic Code, so they couldn't count on that to keep the shinobi away.

"Ah, by the way, I think I've killed Alexander."

"Really?! Then Assassin shouldn't be able to follow us for much longer!"

"Don't be too optimistic. That was freaking satisfying but something really weird happened."

"What do you mean?"

"Assassin didn't try to save his Master, and he even came after us as if he thought he had a chance."

"Maybe he's just dumb or something? Or maybe he's one of those who prefer to die in a fight than because of a lack of prana support."

"As if. And I don't believe someone as well-prepared as that bastard would stand on the front line even if he had the situation under control. The reason Assassin didn't bother helping him is most likely that he knew he wouldn't lose his Master."

"Then maybe someone else is his Master and that Alexander guy was just a decoy."

Michael wondered about that. Just like Rider, he had taken into account the possibility that Alexander Lendric was nothing more than a pawn meant to act as a scapegoat. However, a part of him was screaming ' _That guy was the real deal!_ '. No matter what, his instinct told him Alexander couldn't have been a decoy. On the other hand, it wasn't impossible that Assassin's Master used a body double or a puppet of himself.

"What I really don't like about all th-!" Rider was about to add something before he suddenly noticed something coming toward them at full speed. "Hold on, Michael!"

"Wha-wow!"

Although he was running faster than a motorcycle on a highway, Rider came to a full stop before jumping sidewards. Michael, who hadn't expected the sudden emergency manoeuvre, almost threw up his breakfast on that one. However, the Master of Red also didn't fail to notice the several daggers which stabbed the ground where they had previously been running.

"Shit, Assassin's already caught up?!"

"Yeah, but I can't feel his presence!"

Since it was better than just standing around, Rider kept running. However, since Assassin's location was hidden by his **Presence Concealment** , they were twice as much on their guard than before. Soon enough, another volley of weapon flew in their direction, this time from all directions. Thus, Rider has no choice to dodge them than to jump into a tree like a monkey. However, this turned out to be a huge mistake: just as he kicked off the tree to land onto another, a shadom appeared out of nowhere right next to Michael and Rider.

Assassin of Black, unlike before, didn't have any weapon in his hands, but instead ckenched his fist before slamming it into Rider's body with an unsuspected strength. The Servant of Red barely had the time to raise his arms to rptect himself that he was sent flying toward the ground. In spite of this he nonetheless managed to land on his feet, although the ground under him shook violently at the impact.

And it didn't stop at that: as Rider was regaining his balance, the shadow-clad Servant moved in his direction with a short blade in hand. He tried to intercept Assassin with a punch, but the Servant of Black had expected that much and effortlessly avoided the fist that came flying at him, and closed in on Rider at a distance where he could easily stab him.

(Fuck!) Despite Assassin's large figure, he was much more agile than Rider. The latter couldn't move fast enough to avoid the blade aimed at his heart.

" _Fluunt in flumen!_ "

The incantation came out of Michael's mouth as he opened his magic circuits, and with a flash of light magecraft was released from Michael's unwounded arm. The magic blasts successfully hit their target and Assassin of Black was repelled.

"That's the second time you're ignoring me." Michael would have chuckled, but with his wound and the constant shaking, he felt more like vomiting. "Rider, keep going! I'll cover you so hurry up and find a place bathed in sunlight!"

Rider obliged and resumed his mad dash for the border of the forest. The shadow kept pursuing them, but as promised Michael used his magecraft as a supressive fire and kept the Servant away. That was the strength of their duo, to cover each other in times of need!

Yet, at some point Assassin stopped harrassing them for a moment.

"Do you think we've lost him?" Asked a panting Rider. "That would be too easy, isn't it?"

"Right." Michael watched their back carefully, but there was no trace of Assassin of Black. "Now, let's get ahead of ourselves. I can't believe this persistent bastard would suddenly give up like that."

"I guess you're right...Hm?"

As Rider was striding through the forest, he noticed something on their path: a hundred meters ahead of them, he spotted the shadow-clad figure of Assassin just standing there looking at them, before disappearing.

"He was ahead of us!"

"What?"

"We didn't lose Assassin, it's him who was a step ahead of us!"

"!"

Michael seemed to understand what Rider meant. Why did Assassin stop attacking them, if they hadn't lost him? Why would he bother to go ahead?

"Rider, be careful it's probably a trap!"

"I know!" More than ever, Rider opened his eyes wide, looking out for whatever trap Assassin had set up. Then, as he was approaching the place where he saw Assassin earlier, something tickled his nose. "That smell...Michael, he filled the place with-!"

It was too late. The explosives Assassin had filled the woods with detonated at once, and this part of the forest was turned into a sea of flames.

* * *

"Was that enough to kill them...?"

Assassin was perched up on a tree, looking at the burning forest from afar. New Edge had been waiting for several days now, so of course they would have placed traps. No, more specifically, Assassin had been the one going around and placing explosives without anyone's notice.

As a Heroic Spirit without a proper Noble Phantasm, Assassin would normally be a failure as a Servant, especially since he was already part of the weakest class. However, that was due to his own nature as a shinobi: a shadow meant to be an extension of his lord. He could more than make up for his lack of Noble Phantasm thanks to his **Expert of Many Secializations** skill which gathered all the skills practiced by his ninja clan, including things such as spying, information gathering, sabotage and trapping.

This versality was, in the end, the ultimate weapon of the Heroic Spirit Fuma Kotaro.

Assassin of Black left his position to approach the area where Michael and Rider of Red had been at the time of the explosion, and looked for signs of life within the fire.

"...I don't see anything. Then, they must surely...-!"

Just as he thought he had finally gotten rid of them, Assassin felt a movement on his left: something jumped out of the fire and moved at high speed in direction of the town. When he saw the two persons emerging from the fire, Assassin was hit by disbelief.

"I-impossible...! They're both _unscathed_?!"

It wasn't just some random trap; it was a trap prepared by Assassin, the epitome of the Fuma clan's skills! It could kill a human as well as a Heroic Spirit or a Monstrous Beast, so it was impossible they were completely uninjured from the ambush.

"Michael!" Rider wasn't carrying his Master on his back anymore, but was holding him in his arms as if to prtect him from the fire. "Are you alright? You're alright, right?! Please tell me you're alright!"

"Shut up, I'm fine! The only thing hurt here is my pride as a fully grown man, but aside from that I'm wasn't hurt by the explosion!" Michael barked. Although he wasn't hit by Assassin's trap, his shoulder was still bleeding. They needed to find a place to rest so he could heal it. "What about you, Rider? What were you thinking, shielding me?!"

At the moment everything blew up, Rider had used his body as a barrier to protect Michael from the flames and the explosions. That explained why the latter was safe. However, there was still the question of how Rider, who took the full brunt of the trap, was doing just fine.

"He, no need to worry about me! Not even the rays of the Sun will burn me, so there's no way some measly bombs will!"

The pair were finally about to leave the forest. Assassin had been ordened to stop them before they could recover, so the shadow-clad killer went after them filled with killing intent. His talent as a killer had not been enough. His traps had not been enough. However, that didn't mean he would give up until the end to fulfill his mission!

"This guy is really persistent, seriously." Michael clicked his tongue at the approaching shadow. "But it's not a problem anymore!"

Indeed, in spite of Assassin's superior speed, they were too close to the border of the dark forest for the latter to catch up with them. An so, Rider finally stepped out of the woods and arrived in the outskirts of the small town of Harogd. At last, as they left the forest, Rider allowed himself to slow down until he stopped completely and put Michael down carefully.

"How is your wound?" He asked, worried sick.

"It has bled quite a lot, but it shouldn't be a problem." Although he said that, Michael's face palling. "More importantly, shall we get rid of him?" He said as he indicated the approaching Assassin with his chin.

"Leave it to me!"

Rider turned around to face the Silent Killer headed in their direction,a nd he let Michael alone to heal his wound with magecraft. Though he didn't slow down his approach, Assassin was wary of their sudden change of behavior.

(Why did they suddenly stop? Didn't his Master say they needed a placed bathed in sunlight?) Indeed, now that they had left the forest where the foliage of the trees was blocking off the rays of the sun, Rider and Michael were right in the sunlight. (Sunlight probably makes him stronger. The chances of it being a trap are 95%.) He calmly analyzed the situation as the Servant of the Mount was waiting for him. (However I cannot back down!)

Assassin took out several shuriken from his clothes, and threw them all at Rider with the power of a machine gun.

On his side, Rider didn't even take out hos weapon. Instead, he grabbed the scarlet chlamys he had used to tie Michael earlier with one hand, and threw it high, high in the air.

" _O Sun,_ " As he held his open palm toward the sky and the chlamys he had thrown, Rider recited an incantation. No, it was more correct to call it a plea. " _I who have walked the world to find thou, I who am thy son; please lend me thy power!_ "

A shockwave burnt the ground to ashes around Rider, and the shurikens were utterly disintegrated. Then, the red chlamys caught flame as well, and something descended from the sky at a high velocity, like an orbital strike directed at Rider.

(What is...!)

Assassin could feel the power of whatever was approaching, and begun to retreat in order not to be caught in the impact.

" **Helios: Mighty Star, Curse of my Hubris**!"

 _ *** Stop the music**_

The earth shook and melted.

When the dust fell down and the commotion stopped, beside Rider was a giant golden chariot. It was a magnificent work of art, made of otherworldly materials similar to marble, platinum and gold. The semicircular guard made to protect from attacks has the form and intangibleness of flames, as if they were live flames made of gold. On it were engraved several of the constellations adorning the night sky, and whole cart was brimming with a strange incandescence, as if it really was a piece of sun fallen from the sky. Attached to it were four steeds much bigger than a normal horse, and as immaculate as white-hot steel. Their mane and tail were not made of horsehair but of a bluish fire raging fiercely.

To anyone who brought their eye upon the chariot, they would undoubtly agree it was a Noble Phantasm of the highest degree. That was the case of Assassin, who before this unexpected turn of event had no choice but to fall back immediatly.

 _Master, I am thoroughly sorry, but I have failed the mission you gave to me._

He reported to his Master through they're mental connection. Against all expecteations, Alexadner's reply didn't sound particularly disappointed.

 _Well, I guess that's too bad. There something more important right now, so come back to me immediatly._

 _Understood!_

And with that, Assassin of Black vanished.

"Hm, I was expecting more of a fight actually..." Rider, who just watched Assassin retreating, scratched the back of his head in front of the anticlimatic conclusion.

"We don't have the time for that, seriously. Have you forgotten what's going on?" Once he was done with healing, Michael walked up to his Servant and looked at the golden chariot with a look of amazement. "Well damn. I didn't expect a machine of destruction to be this beautiful."

"Please don't call it a machine of destruction..." Rider told his Master with an uneasy expression.

Michael admonished himself internally for the slip of tongue, and apologized to Rider.

"But are you sure you want to do this?"

"What do you mean?" Rider cast Michael a puzzled look.

"I know I'm the one who told you to summon it" He added as he pointed at the Noble Phantasm. "but if you don't feel like you can do it, I won't force you to."

Rider gulped. He knew what Michael was implying with his serious expression. He looked at the chariot, just waiting there for someone to jump on it and ride it. It was exactly as he remembered it, although those two were different chariot.

For a second, he imagined himself stepping on the platform, and seizing the rein to drive it. As he did, a cold sweat formed on his forehead, and he felt his hands shaking uncontrolably. ' _It's not the same, it's not the same, it's not the same!_ ' he repeated to himself again and again like a mantra.

Michael sighed and crossed his arms.

"As I thought, I can't ask that of y-"

"No, I'll do it."

Michael looked back at Rider with surprise painted all over his face. The Servant was still sweating and shaking, but he was looking at the golden chariot with a determined, almost ferocious glint in his eyes.

"...I...can't burden you with my problems!"

"What are you saying?! Of course you can! That's what a fat-" Michael bit his tongue. He almost said ' _that's what a father is for_ ". Ah, he was so used to having Leo and Maria around him he had instinctively started to act fatherly with Rider. But he wasn't the father Rider was looking for, he knew that. "I mean, that's what a friend is for, you hear?"

"That's not it!" Rider declared firmly. As he did, he stpped on the cart with a shaking leg, and took hold of the beautiful golden reins. "That's not my father's chariot, I know that. This...is the weight of my hubris. I'm not a hero or anything, but I can't burden other people with my mistakes. Not ever again."

Although he was trying to make a point, his voice was wavering lightly and his hands wouldn't stop trembling. It was frustrating. He was frustrated to be like that even when he had to help someone. So, he took a deep breath and forced his body to stand still.

When he looked over his shoulder at Michael who was looking at him dumbfounded, there was no trace of fear or hesitation on Rider's expression.

"We have to help Leanne and Berserker! What are you waiting for, step on the goddamn chariot already, old geezer!"

For a couple second, Michael was frozen. Then, he smiled to himself.

(Look at yourself. What do you mean, you're not a hero?)

* * *

Somewhere, someone was ruminating while looking at a map.

That was the real Alexander Lendric, Assassin of Black's Master. At the moment, he was inside a military van hidden in the forest. He looked exactly the same as the fake Alexander that had been killed by Michael Argas, from his appearance to his clothes, and even the gun hidden beneath his business clothes. However, there something different between the two: while the fake had been smiling and remained eerily calm, this one was frowning and looking disatisfied. This had nothing to do with Michael's refusal, or what the Master told him. He actually couldn't care less about that; he knew it was hit-or-miss from the beginning.

The actual situation was as follow: Rider and his Master had managed to escape Assassin and were headded toward Harogd. In doing so, he killed the automaton Alexander which Assassin's Master had used as a body double with the same personality as him. Inside Harogd, the two platoon of automata he had sent had been eyxterminated by Berserker of Red. To think they had bothered to have Saber make all these Noble Phantasm bullets, only for it to prove ineffective...

And that was about it. The Mage's Association had only sent two Masters and Servants here. Rider was out of the woods, and Berserker had eliminated everyone in the town.

"..."

 _ *** Rose Guns Days – Axelle-ratio**_

So what was that incoherence?

To be sure, Alexander had brought three platoons of automata with him, plus a couple snipers. There were the two teams sent in the town to kill Berserker of Red, and had failed. There were the two snipers Alexander had sent with his body double. And there was supposed to be a platoon of foot soldiers inside the forest to intercept Rider and Michael in the case they tried to escape.

And he had _completely lost contact with those_.

Alexander was sure there were only two Servants of Red here.

"Then who..." He mused as he looked at the map.

Normally, if the automata had met an enemy, they would have contacted him. But they just suddenly disappeared like that.

"..Or they were killed to fast for them to react."

Alexander held his communication device in his hand, and he changed the channel.

"Loïa, can you hear me?" The one he called was Loïa Beddway, his secretary and Caster of Black's Master. "There's a change in plan. I already asked Assassin to come back; do so as well. We can't afford to be separated right now." He clenched his other hand, effectivaly scrunching the map which was useless now that he had no troops. "Yes, the hypothesis about the existance of a third Faction...is probably true."

* * *

Inside the small town, Berserker was standing on a street littered with destroyed automata laying on the ground. The beast-like man was looking left and right frenetically to see if there was still enemies living, and he was breathing heavily, forming white trails in the winter cold. Leanne was sitting on his gigantic shoulder, sweating even though the temperature was so cold.

She wasn't frightened. As strange as it may have sounded, the way the automatabroke under Berserker's attacks without even bleeding reminded her more of a turbulent child breaking their toys than living beings being slaughtered. Everything happened so fast, she had trouble processing what was going on.

Michael had told her they were to fight other Servants, but those who attacked her and Berserker looked like nothing more than foot soldiers.

"I hope Mr. Argas and Rider are okay..." She worried as she looked in direction of the forest where a fire had spread all of sudden. "Hm?"

Leanne heard some noise coming from the noise; it sounded like the static of an old TV. Berserker growled at the origin of the noise, which was some sort of walkie-talkie one of the automata had been carrying.

Curious, Leanne decided to come down from the giant of Servant, and approached the walkie-talkie.

"Hey, does someone hear me?" A carefree, friendly voice came out of the device. "Mrs. Stormbird, if you're here please answer~."

Leanne was taken aback to hear her own name coming up; nonetheless she answered.

"I-I'm here."

"Hm! Great! Let me present myself, I am Alexander Lendric. I'm short on time right now, so I will get straight to the point: you do realize how you're being treated by your own Faction, don't you?"

"W-what do you mean?" Leanne didn't understand what the stranger on the other side of the communication device was talking about.

"What I mean? Don't you feel you're being left out on the situation? Let me guess, the magi from the Mage's Association suddenly broke in your life and forced you to participate. Isn't it so?"

"Ugh." Leanne didn't like that feeling. It was the same as when she had first met the magi: they knew everything about her, and she didn't know anything about them. "What about it?"

"Don't you realize you're being manipulated? The Mage's Association aren't exactly kind with widows if they prove to be useful. You're the kind of pawn they can use and then discard immediatly."

His words stabbed like a cold knife in Leanne's heart. Just like with Michael, Alexander Lendric was good at assaulting people's weak point with just a few words.

Leanne had feared this. In a situation such as the one she was in, it was normal to wonder if she wasn't just being used. REVOC had pretty much said the same thing, that the Clock Tower doesn't care about using people, even less when they didn't have any talent at magecraft. Alexander was stabbing into her fear.

Even so...

"What does it have to do with you?"

"It's simple, really. Why don't you join my side?"

"What...?"

"Ah, I forgot to specify I'm the leader of the Black Faction. We'd happy to have you in our ranks, Mrs. Stormbird. We won't just use you nad then throw you away."

"And what reasons do I have to trust you?"

"What reason do you have to trust the Mage's Association?"

"Kh..."

"Or did they make some fishy promise with you? Did they say they would save your son?"

"...They...did nothing of the sort."

"What~? They really don't bother with negociation, do they. Then what i I make that promise? Would you join New Edge?"

Leanne winced, because if the pain. It was no physical pain, but the one she felt in her heart. Alexander was right. She had realized what her situation was. In fact, his proposal was pretty interesting in and off itself.

But...

Even so, she couldn't bring herself to just say ' _yes_ '. She couldn't forget the kindness of REVOC and Michael. It was a lie to say no one cared about her. She wanted to believe there were people who wanted to help her. And there were people she cared about as well. Moreover, at the moment, she was entrusting everything to Berserker. The Servant whose emotions resounded with hers, was feeling only distrust toward the walkie-talkie.

"I refuse."

"...Why?"

"Because Berserker doesn't trust you."

"..." For a moment, there was only silence on the other side of the device. Then, she heard Alexander laughing out loud. "Hahahahahahahaha! Seriously, what's with you people anyway? Oh well, it's not like I expected anything else. But you're just like Michael, you know? You'll be needing hel-"

 _CRAASH!_

"!"

Then, before Alexander could finish his sentence, there was a huge noise, and Leanne was suddenly caught by Berserker who then lept back by a roar.

"██▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄█!"

"B-Berserker, what's wrong!...eh...?"

Then, Leanne noticed: the walke-talkie she had been speaking with had been destroyed. In its place, there was a long, massive spear. It was so ridiculously long, it was more akin to one of those stakes she had seen in a documentary on torture. It was entirely pitch black, and it seemed to be made of only one material. It had come out of nowhere and suddenly landed right on the communication device, creating a small crater where Leanne had previously been crouching.

"W-what is this? How did it arrive here?"

Footsteps rang around the town. When she looked up from the spear to the street in front of them, she saw the owner of the spear coming toward them.

Someone was coming.

No, that was wrong.

A monster was coming.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _Hey, everyone! So, this chapter was surprisingly dialogue-heavy, with the discussion between Alexander and Michael spanning more than a third of the chapter. Whereas I dedicated the previous chapter more to Leanne, in this one there was more focus on Michael and Rider. I hope you appreciate the pair, as I'm having a blast writing their interactions~._

 _I hope I did a better job with the music this time, and that it enhanced your reading experience!_

 _Once again, thank you for reading this chapter! Don't hesitate to review, comment or ask a question._

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	14. Chapter XIII: Monster

_A/N: Hi everyone, and thank you in advance fro reading this story! Before giving you the list of the musics for this chapter, I'd like to comment on something that's been nagging me recently: that is, the reviews about the Servants' identities. Now, it's part of the fun to guess who is who, but if you do please do it in a PM, and not in the review section 'cause that might annoy people who are trying to guess on their own. Reviews like that will be deleted from now on, please understand._

 _Now I won't keep your attention any longer, here are the musics or this thirteenth chapter:_

 _ *** Umineko – About Face**_

 _ *** Rose Guns Days – Axelle-ratio**_

 _ *** RGD – Duel of Rose**_

 _ *** Umineko – Wingless**_

 _ *** RGD – mission No. 023**_

* * *

 _ *** Umineko – About Face**_

At the same moment the Red and Black Factions were at each other's throat in Danemark and in the Azores, elsewhere in the world there were a Master and Servant who weren't participating in the fighting. It was inside the Black Faction's headquarters, New Edge Corporation's hideout in Madagascar; deep, deep below the ground, beyond the maze-like hallways there was a uinque room not quite like the rest of the structure.

Simply put, it was a library. However, it's size and content were apalling: it would be no exaggeration to call it a national library considering the sheer width of it, and the number of books of all sizes and all colors did not betray this feeling. Looking at the rows filled with books from the floor to the ceiling of the huge room, it seemed like a lifetime wasn't enough to read all of its content. The subjects were also extremely diversified: by searching around a little, one could find books about cooking, about magecraft, about folklore, some fictions and even children stories, all sorted randomly and without any apparent logic between the shelves.

The only person capable of finding their way around the sea of paper to find a specific book was the owner of this ridiculously gargantuan library, since this messy placement was a reflection of her own personality.

 _Scrrch, scrrch, scrrch!_

Even though it was crammed with books and shelves, because there was never any visitor the library was filled with an atmosphere similar to that of a ghost town, empty and eerie as if life was forbidden in this area. That was also why the a whisper would echo through the air and dwell in this place for a short while. But ever since it was created, only one sound could be heard.

 _Scrrch, scrrch, scrrch!_

The only sound fitting in this forest of books, the melody of a quill scratching the surface of paper. It was Berserker of Black, writing frenetically as always while the noise made in the process haunted the isolated bibliotheca like a ghost's laments. But as a matter of course, he wasn't the only person inside the subterranean athenaeum. Sitting on a wheelchair while she was looking at her Servant fondly was the owner of the place: Silvelune Arbonnaux.

Berserker of Black's Master had an appearance truly feating to the overall atmosphere of the library: her skin was pale, extremely so, in a way that made her look like a corpse of a porcelain doll just sitting there as a decoration. Her long hair were blond, but not the usual honey-like blondness golden hair should possess. Instead, hers was somewhat pale, with golden and silvery hair meddling and running down elegantly on each side of her body. The smile adorning her face was faint, a subtle grin which combined with her bewitching eyes gave off the impression of a witch sneering at the face of those who thought her a normal human.

Sat on her wheelchair, unmoving; she truly was a ghostly beauty fitting this library's surreal atmosphere. No, maybe it was the other way around: this bibliotheca was her domain, so it reflected her soul and became the kingdom of a lone ghastly witch.

That was of no concern to Silvelune: this place was her world, and had always been as far as she could remember. All the book present here were hers; they already belonged to her before they were moved to the Black Faction's headquarters. The sheer number of book may have been too much for a human to read, but it was nothing to a bored witch. After all, it was all she had had for a long time. As far as Magic Circuit went, hers were of high quality. However, as if to make up for it, her body had been born extremely weak, so much that she found using a wheelchair more practical to move around than to walk on her own feet. Sadly, the same went for the use of magecraft: she was capable of it, but it'd quickly become an exhausting task for her, and she'd be limited to simple spells.

Like the one she had been using to keep her captive in check.

"I wonder, what might you be dreaming?" She mused as she looked down at the sleeping Maria Argas' face. "I guess it's too much to ask of you to dream of me, isn't it?"

As she muttered to herself, Silvelune gently stroke Maria's hair. The girl was lying down on one of the tables with a cushion under her head. Silvelune had used a sleep spell to keep her asleep most of the time, though she would wake her up to let her eat and wash. Yet even then she would apply a hypnosis spell to keep her conscience asleep, pretty much like a doll.

She would keep her in this state during the whole war, that was what Silvelune had decided for her old friend. As far as Silvelune knew, Maria had no idea that a Holy Grail War was going on, nor that her father and her cousin were taking part in it. She originally thought she was going to spend some times in London to see Leo and the Clock Tower. It was better that way; she didn't need to know about the war. It wasn't out of kindness that Silvelune kept her in a slumber however. Of course, it was because this way, she wouldn't try to escape. Not that she'd be able to leave the place, but the very thought of it deeply hurt her. She knew that, if she woke up, Marias would rather flee to be at her family's side rather than by Silvelune's side.

She didn't want that; she wanted to keep Maria, her only friend, near her inside her world.

In a word, it was love. Silvelune had kidnapped Maria because she didn't want her anywhere else than with her, because she was in love with Maria Argas.

 _Scrrch, scrrch..._

But Silvelune's train of thought was interrupted when she noticed Berserker had stopped moving the tip of his quill onto the paper's surface. When she looked up from Maria's sleeping face to glance at her Servant, the latter was standing there, unmoving while his eyes clouded in madness were gazing down the page he had just filled with words of ink.

The book Berserker was writing was actually his Noble Phantasm. Without it, he was a poor excuse of a Servant, especially for the Berserker class. That was why Silvelune was still at the base and not on the battlefield: to complete his Noble Phantasm ans make him mighty strong.

 _Scrrrrrrrrrrchhhhhh!_

 _ *** Stop music**_

Then, all of sudden, Berserker ragefully tore the page off the bof and threw it away. It landed on the ground, next to a pile of similarly torn off pages from his book.

"My, my. Again?" Silvelune sighed, as if saying ' _It can't be helped_ '.

He was, after all, a Berserker. His Mad Enhancement skill was at rank EX, meaning he could be particularly reasonable for someone of his class. But that was just a façade, and a madness much more tenacious haunted him; namely, the pride of a writer. From time to time, it seemed he wasn't happy with what he wrote, and he would tear off his progress like he did just now.

And, just as the previous times, Berserker stood up from his chair and headed to the library's exit to roam around the undergound facility and change his mind. It was a surprisngly human behavior for a being that was supposedly beyond humanity, but it didn't bother Silvelune. On the contrary, because Berserker was also part of her world, she liked to follow him in his random walks. Thus, Master and Servant left the fortress of books to take a short walk.

The sound of their steps slowly faded away, and the library was burried in silence once again.

Once she had confirmed that, Maria's eyes opened.

"They're...gone..."

* * *

 **Chapter XIII: Monster**

* * *

 _ *** Rose Guns Days – Axelle-ratio**_

 _Thump. Thump._

Heavy footsteps could be heard. They were coming in her direction.

A strange and unique feeling appeared inside Leanne's chest, before spreading to her whole body. She didn't realize it at the time but, she was shivering; her arms and legs were quacking and she subconsciously tightened her grip on Berserker of Red's shoulder, like a frightened child hiding behind their parent and gripping their close.

' _As frightened child_ '. It was a pretty accurate analogy: at this very moment, she was no better than a scared little girl in front of what was headed her way. That feeling which had taken possession of her body, was called fear. True fear. It was a primal fear, the same alarming sensation an animal would experience when they met face to face with a predator.

 _Thump. Thump_

A predator was right there, ready to jump at her neck and dig its fangs in her nape to twist it. However, it wasn't her own fear. It didn't really matter in the current situation, but this only natural feeling of fright wasn't Leanne's but her Servant's. Of course she didn't understand that, first because it was hard to differenciate her emotions from Berserker's, but also because she couldn't imagine Berserker being afraid of anything. Since his summoning, the giant Servant had seemed a powerful and relentless beast which didn't know fear. In fact, as a Servant whose mind was clouded, he shouldn't be able to feel something such as dread.

That was why she could tell it was a very fundamental fear. This Berserker, who was supposed to be an unstoppable machine of destruction, was genuinely scared because it was only normal to be so.

 _Thump. Thump._

The footsteps were now close enough that their owner's silhouette was clearly visible to Leanne, even though the sun was setting in the distance, and the sky was being filled with colors of dusk. The winter air suddenly became chillier, but it wasn't as though the temperature had dropped with the arrival of the night.

A ridiculously tall figure was standing right in front of the jet black spear embedded in the ground and which nearly killed Leanne when she was speaking with Alexander Lendric. Just a second ago, Leanne thought the javelin was way too large to be called a spear, but when the colossal figure reached for it with their muscular arm, she understood it was actually just the right size to be called a spear to them.

"I missed? No, you were actually saved by your Servant. I see." A male voice resoned within the street of Harogd, a deep, powerful voice that filled the glacial air like the music from a pipe organ. "I guess that's what I get for throwing it without a clear view. He. He he. Hehehehehahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha...!"

The man, who was at first speaking calmly as if making an observation, slowly broke into a wild and cruel laughter. The strength with which it resounded in echo inside the windy empty streets made it sound more diabolical than maniacal, although there clearly was a beastly ring to it. This only served to confirme Leanne's impression that he was a predator.

"I was seriously bored, you know. Even though there were so many preys...but it's not the number that matter. No matter how numerous, they all get killed all too easily and too fast for me to enjoy the hunt. That won't do. That wont do that won't do that won't do that won't do...!" He kept repeating under his breath while chuckling and casting an amused glance toward them.

When his eyes, met with Leanne's, she felt a nauseous sensation rising from her stomach, and if she wasn't so scared she might have thrown up right there and then. Again, it was only normal; on the contrary, it would have been weird for her to be left unaffected by the Servant's appearance: easily reaching the three meters in height, the spearman was towering above both Leanne's and Berserker's heads, loking down on them with a carnivorous smile. He was wearing richely decorated fabrics which wrapped around his body, but his chest was undressed, exhibiting his charcoal black skin which glittered under the nascent starlight. His hairs were short but unruly with spiky, thistle-colored strands of hair falling on each side of his temples.

But the part which sent shivers down Leanne's spine as she looked at him, were his eyes. Those were by no mean human: the sclera was completely black, of a black even deeper than his skin. And, in the middle of those black eyeballs, like the moon in a starless sky, were two bright red dots shining malevolently and piercing right through Leanne's eyes as she looked into them.

"What do we have there?" The unknown Servant seemed only now to notice Leanne's existance. That was wrong though, since he tried to kill her earlier and acknowledged her as a Master. But that was probably the first time he looked at her directly. "Quite a eeble prey, huh? You look like you'd die even faster than those little puppet inside the forest. Then you don't interest me!" He lifted his spear and pointed the tip toward Berserker's large body. " You, on the other hand..."

"██▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄█!" Berserker roared as if to reply.

"...you're exactly the kind of prey I love to skin and butcher, servant of God!" He added in a blood-curling voice.

Another chill traversed Leanne.

Inside her Servant was a mixture of fear, rage and apprehension. She could feel just how much Berserker ressented and dreaded the black spearman. And at the same time, she understood he'd refuse to back no matter what for Leanne's safety.

"Berserker..."

"██▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄█!" After a second intimidating roar, Berserker grabbed Leanne who had been sitting on his shoulder, and put her down.

Leanne didn't dare to protest, as she could tell what was about to happen, and she didn't want to get in her Servant's way. She had confidence in Berserker's strength: he had shown it to her just a minute ago by protecting her. But for some reason, she didn't feel right about it; about that black Servant.

"W-who are you...!" She tried to put some strength into her voice, but the result was quite pathetic and she sounded more like a frightened animal.

"Who I am? Does a prey ever ask their predator's identity? Of course not! In the face of death, a prey doesn't need any information to start running away. Though I guess humans are the one exception. Foolish, always foolish..." For an instant, the Servant grumbled to himself, before eventually striking the pavement with the end of his spear and declaring: "Fine! Since these are the Holy Grail's rules, allow me to present myself: I am the Lancer of White!"

"A-ah. Nice to meet yo, I'm-"

Out of politeness, Leanne had proceeded to present herself back at Lancer of White. But before she could do so, there was a great noise, and teh world suddenly started to spin around Leanne.

"██▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄█!"

She had been saved a second time by Berserker: when her vision stopped shaking, Leanne could see Lancer standing where she had stood less than ten seconds ago. The Heroic Spirit of the Spear had instantly closed the distance between him and Leanne, and had tried to skewer her. Berserker had jumped in at the last moment, and instead the black spear struck the ground, utterly smashing and fissuring the paved road.

" p...! I said I'd overlook you, but if you open your mouth a second time I'll kill you for real, you stupid prey!" Looking up from the floor where his spear was stuck, Lancer cast a dangerous glance at Leanne. Upon seeing those eyes looking at her so intently with murderous intent, Leanne felt the urge to vomit rising again. She fought against it, but she couldn't help averting her eyes. "A prey and a predator exchanging greetings? How stupid! How stupid how stupid how stupid how stupid...!" As he repeated those two words, Lancer was scratching his temples frenetically as if it was itching.

Then, his hand slowly stopped moving. He removed his spear from the ground and stood up mechanically, and he shifted his gaze to Berserker who was standing between Lancer and Leanne like a guardian dog.

"But you...you understand, right?" His voice had become calmer and softer all of sudden. "If a dangerous predator comes after you, there's no choice: kill or be killed. That only goes for wild animals though. A shepard will protect the lambs that comes under its autority. But humans refuse to have a shepard. Because there is no guarantee the shepard will win over the predator. Isn't it, Berserker? How is it to be the shepard? How does it feel? Hahaha..."

Leanne didn't understand one sentence of what Lancer was saying, but the giant spearman was clearly sneering at her Servant. She didn't understand why, until she realized something.

"Berserker...you're hurt?!"

Indeed, Leanne noticed the blood tainting the pristine snow, slowly but surely turning it red. This blood was coming out of a wound on Berserker's side. That was, probably, a wound inflicted by lancer's spear when Berserker saved Leanne from a certain death. It didn't look very deep, nor life-threatening. Of course, Leanne was unaware of how tough a Servant was, but even then she thought of Berserker as a strong creature that will not go down from a single injury.

No, in the first place, hadn't he withstood the attacks from before without flinching. The special bullets that had been used againt Leanne and Berserker had barely grazed the mad Servant. And yet this black spear had just managed to penetrate Berserker's tough-as-steel body like it was nothing, even though it didn't look that sharp.

"Ah...I see...Berserker, you...that spear!" Finally, Leanne understood.

The fear and apprehension she could detect and share with her Servant wasn't due to Lancer's presence. When push came to shove, it didn't matter what kind if individual Berserker faced; he would fight them head on like an unstoppable machine of destruction. The actual source of dread Leanne could feel through her Servant came from the spear Lancer was holding in one hand.

It really was a strange spear no matter how you look at it, and it wasn't only because of its sheer size. The very look of it was unnatural, as it was made of a single piece of a material that vaguely ressembled obsidian. It wasn't elegantly made either, instead looking crude as though it had been directly carved out of the stone: the blade didn't look like it had been correctly sharpened, and the shaft of the spear was dotted with black thorns.

This spear was inhuman. No, actually it was human; all too human, so much it had become inhuman. That was why it was able to penetrate Berserker's defenses so easily.

"Are you afraid, Berserker?" Lancer inquired in a sarcastic tone. "You should. This spear...is the manifestation of my hate for those of your kind!" As if to further support this affirmation, Lancer's face twisted in an expression of utter hatred. Murderous intent emanatted from his large frame. Then, he held his spear of hatred with his two hands, signaling that the time for discussion had ended. "Whatever. I'm supposed to be racing with Rider, so I'll just kill you quickly."

 _ *** Rose Guns Days – Duel of Rose**_

"B-Berserker, be careful..." Leanne could only moan in a feeble voice, as she clerly felt the situation was beyond what she could handle.

"██▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄█!" Like he was trying to reassure her, Berserker let out a proud warcry.

The two giants were facing off in the street littered with the white snow, a immaculate white only dirtied by the red of the blood spilt, and the figure of the two Servants. Lancer of White had his body slightly bent forward like a lion ready to leap on its prey; his body, since it was entirely black and unmoving, stood out in the whiteness of the scenery like a gigantic shadow, something that wasn't alive. However his blood red eyes staring back so intently at his opponent didn't allow any doubt that he was alive, and that he would ruthlessly kill them if they lowered their guard.

On the other hand, Berserker of Red was standing upright like an unwavering tower. His breath turned white by the winter night gave off the impression of a steam engine operating at full capacity. His tall silhouette didn't give off the impression of a wild beast like it usually did. On the contrary, he looked much saner than he rightfully should. That was probably due to the fear inspired by Lancer's spear; an emotion he normally shouldn't feel because of his Mad Enhancement must have brought back part of his sanity. With Lancer bent forward, their head were around the same height. It was probably the first time Berserker was forced to look up to look his opponent in the eyes.

The cruel red eyes of a predator. The eyes clouded in madness of a poweful beast. The two met only for an instant, before Lancer's figure blurred, kicking the ground with such strength that a gust was produced upon impact and the snow surrounding him was kicked up. At the same moment, Berserker too disappeared from Leanne's sight with similar strength.

For a second, only a second, there was nothing in sight. Time stood still as though both Servant had vanished from this world.

Then, as suddenly as they had disappeared, there was a great shock that was like a huge explosion. It happened a hundred meters away from Leanne's position: at the moment of the collision, all sound vanished and a mighty burst of wind swept everything away inside the street of Harogd. The impact was so great all the snow laying on the ground, and even the snow on the roof of the old houses, was swept up and colored the world white like a snowstorm.

Comparing it to an explosion wasn't exaggerated, as the houses that were closes to the point of impact were mercilessly blown away as if they were made of porcelain. Even Leanne, who was far from the center of the shock, couldn't resist the poweful gust of wind and was blown away on several meters before landing on the cold pavement of the road.

Even so, what inhabited her thoughts right now was not her own safety, but that of her Servant.

(Berserker...please be safe...!)

* * *

Although it may have seemed so from a spectator's point of view, the enormous shock that had just happened was not the result of the collision of the two Servants. Although a fight between Servant was beyond what the laws of physics would allow, a single attack could not produce such a result.

At the moment Lancer started moving, although he should have been the hunter it was Berserker that came for him. Lancer had merely blocked the fist swung at him by Berserker with his spear, and yet the result had been that powerful explosion.

Now that world was tainted white by the snow swirling around the two fighters, neither had a clear view on their opponent. And yet, they could sense each other's presence; Lancer thanks to his refined hunter's instinct that won't let him lose a target; Berserker because of the aura emitted by Lancer's spear.

Lancer had somehow managed not to be blown away by the attack's unexpected strength. His eyes focused on his prey although he couldn't directly see him, he readied his spear and aimed for the beastly Berserker. At a speed unimaginable for his huge stature, several black arcs were drawn across the bizarre world of whiteness. None of them correctly connected, not because Lancer aimed poorly but because Berserker had evaded them. Not completely though, as Lancer clearly felt he had managed to reach him with the tip of his blade.

(He might be able to feel my spear, but his agility isn't on par with mine!)

Lancer didn't slow down one bit in his relentless onslaught, and with several swings which had enough strength to blow away a tank, he dissipated the cloud of snow.

"There you are...!" Now that there was nothing in the way of his sight, Lancer unleashed a swing much more powerful than the previous ones, going beyond what his parameters should allow, and with a frightening precision.

However, there was another collision, weaker this time around. The reason was simple: Berserker had had to parry the attack with his left arm. The forearm he used to shield himself held on against Lancer's powerful attack, however the area of the arm that was in contact with the spear looked like it was burning -that it was dissolving like the spear was actually acid.

Ignoring that fact, Berserker clenched his right fist, and a whirlwind of power dwelled within his arm.

So that was his Noble Phantasm, mused Lancer. He could see it clearly now that there was nothing to obstruct his view: Berserker's body was burning with an unfathomable energy, an invisble power which was shrouding his body and imbuing each of his attacks. But that was not all; as this power was infusing his body, Berserker's chest and eyes were filled with a blazing light: a blinding light of which color was indefinable by human eyes. The same light was coming out of Berserker's back, forming mighty wings of otherworldly glow.

However, that light wasn't unknown to Lancer. He had already witnessed it plenty of times.

"If that isn't the light of the Lord. I see, it isn't just that you're ridiculously powerful -you've received the light of an angel from Him, the power of an archangel!"

That was an extremely dangerous power, yet rather than being impressed or guarded, Lancer's smile widened and the cruel glow of his eyes intensified.

Berserker of Red swung his right arm imbued with power horizontally. As expected, the strength of the blow was of much larger scale than that of simple attack, because it had the power of an archangel backing it. Lancer had seen the attack coming, tried to evade the oncoming storm leaping backward out of Berserker's reach; but if that allowed him to escape the full brunt of the attack, it didn't stop the shockwave caused by the punch and Lancer was truly catapulted two hundred meters in the sky like a ragdoll.

This didn't didn't disturbed Lancer happy expression in any way, and even though the world was spinning violently for him the spearman calmly held his pear with one hand and waited for an opening. Even though the disturbance created by Berserker's punch hadn't completely disappeared and Lancer's body was still being buffeted aroun by the strength of it, he didn't miss his occasion and threw his spear like a javelin with such force it seemed unaffected by the shockwave.

 **Broken Phantasm**. That was a way to call the spear overloaded with prana that was being sacrificed in exchange for more power.

The great spear soared from the sky to the earth like a ray of darkness, and with the precision of a hawk pounding on its prey approached Berserker's head. The latter responded by clenching his fist and second time, and hitting the spear with his full strength. The intensity of the two forces connecting was such that the ground below Berserker was pulverized. It was ony short lived though, and the spear throwned by Lancer was utterly destroyed by Berserker's fist.

It wasn't ineffective however, as the fist that had met with the tip of the spear was almost sliced in two and smeared with blood.

On his side, Lancer had confirmed something: Berserker's Master couldn't heal her Servant. It made things much easier for him actually. Just as Berserker had destroyed the black spear launched at him, Lancer landed but at such speed the ground shook under his feet. The two warriors stared into the other's eyes, only for an instant, before Berserker resumed his assault on Lancer.

The Servant of Red was like a mighty beast, a monster released by God on the humans; when he kicked the ground to rush over Lancer, everything in a radius of ten meters was destroyed, and he charged with the power of a comet. Lancer laughed at this destructive power, and as he held his hand out, another massive black spear formed in it; after all, as his weapon was a concept he could recreate it as many time as necessary.

"Come, come you holy monster! Make my hunt worthwhile!" He howled, as said monster was closing on him like a divine bull.

Before Berserker's meteor-like charge could reduce him to a pulp, Lancer lept out of his opponent's path to land behind him. Sensing that, Berserker stopped dead in his tracks; hower that didn't stop the momentum of his rush, which was enough to pulverize the block of houses Lancer had been standing in front of. Lancer thrusted his spear toward Berserker's back, aiming for his heart when the Servant of Madness suddenly spinned around and delivered a circular kick to deviate the spear. Of course, Lancer couldn't hope to match Berserker's strength and he was pushed back so violently his slammed into the ruins of a house.

"Yes, this is more like it..." Lancer chuckled, and his massive body immediatly disappeared to reappear right next to Berserker. "But if you can't regenerate, then I just have to wear you down little by little, you monster!"

Berserker swung his fist trying to crush Lancer, but the latter dodged almost effortlessly and retaliated with a barrage of attacks from all angles. Berserker tried to avoid or parry most attacks, and to fight back with just as many attacks that were all of EX rank power, which in turn Lancer would evade or deviate, and vice-versa. The battle between the two Servants was like a raging storm, unleashed at a speed humans eyes couldn't follow, and with a force that would repel anything, let alone allowing anyone to approach the core of the hurricane.

But it was clear for those capable of watching this fight of legends that Lancer of White had the upper hand: no matter how many times the mad Servants swung his fists and redduced more buildings into rubbles, the Servant of the Spear was too agile and would evade the attack like it was nothing. On the other hand, Berserker could only defend from Lancer's dreaded spear, let alone evade it. The longer the battle raged on, the more weared down Berserker became under the repeated assaults of Lancer.

Even so, the Servant of Red didn't try to run away even though he could harldy win this fight in the current conditions. It wasn't because of his Mad Enhancement clouding his judgement; even a wild animal knew when to retreat better than most humans. The answer was simple: he couldn't allow himself to lose this fight.

He would even go toe-to-toe against a Servant he had a bad compatibility with, as long as he had something to protect.

"██▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄█!"

"What's the matter, Berserker?! I thought this hunt would be more interesting, but is flailing your arms around the only thing you can do?!" Lancer jeered, seemingly bothered in the least by the destructive rampage of the Servant of Red. "I know you're stronger than that! What do I have to do to slay you in all your might?!"

At this point of the fight, the area surrounding the two Heroic Spirits was completely devoid of snow or buildings, leaving instead a wide crater of dirt that was only widening. In a matter of minutes, the scenery of the small town of Harogd had been warped and painted over by the battle between the two.

"██▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄█!"

Understanding the current situation was hopeless, Berserker decided to break out of the endless lock he had created with Lancer of White. After repelling an umpteenth strike from lancer, he roared with such strength that the very air around him shook, and Lancer felt the vibration resonate within his body.

"!"

Then, at once, the wings of light that sprouted out of Berserker's back started moving around at great speed, and they swooped on Lancer as if engulfing him in their intense bightness.

Lancer wasn't able to evade this time around; he was too close to Berserker and had been taken by surprise by this sudden change in attack patern. He swung his lance to counter the first wing that came after him. But the power of the impact far exceeded his expectation, and as he was strongly pushed back the wing of light broke through his spear with tremendous power.

Lancer was unharmed as the second wing of light pounded on him with just as much power as the first one. The Servant of White felt it: if this attack connected, he would be killed. And yet this thought only added to his excitation as a wild grin split his face in two.

"Yes, that's more like it...!"

Lancer held out his hand toward the blade of light closing in on him. In this hand, a black mist started accumulating in order to form another spear. He wasn't fast enough however, and with a great ear-shattering shock, the wing collided with Lancer's arm. The latter was blown away over tens of meters, and landed so heavily he left an impact on the ground.

Nonetheless, he was still alive. The rushed spear he had managed to manifest before Berserker's attack could connect had been enough to absorb the full brunt of the attack. However, Lancer didn't manage to escape fully unscathed: as he stood up, his body shook and he coughed violently. The taste of blood filled his mouth and trickles of blood crept up from between his lips. Looking at the arm that had been used to absorb the attack was a complete, indescribable wreck.

But soon enough, a greenish light appeared on his body and illuminated his torso. Slowly, the pain disappeared, and with disgusting cracking sound his arms was restorated to its normal state.

(Hmph. At least this Master of mine isn't completely worthless.)

He had no time to spare to catch his breath: like one of those Phantasmal Beasts Lancer used to hunt in his life, Berserker of Red was rushing toward him while trampling the ground. Another black spear appeared in Lancer's hand, but this time again he couldn't fight back against the wongs speed and strength. The two column of lights darted toward him like two snakes on a prey and coiled around his body before lifting him high in the sky.

The next instant, Lancer was flung at full strength across the wasteland, with so much momentum that his passing could have been mistaken for a normal gust of wind.

Lancer gritted his teeth and and put his strength into resisting the pressure exerted upon him that would have been enough to crush a normal human. With a loud howl, he planted his spear in the ground in order reduce his momentum, but even so he was still racing at an astounding speed, away fom the ruins of the town and closer to the forest. His feet, which he had managed to put back on the ground, were screaming at the ordeal of being skinned by the friction.

"Hnnng...rhaaaaaaaaaaaa!" With a ferocious scream, Lancer put more strength into his spear.

Slowly but surely, his momentum decreased before he came to a full stop. Before long, the same greenish light than before appeared and Lancer's feet were healed. The Servant of the Spear was panting, and there were beads of sweating pearling on his forehead. And yet, none of that could rub this cruel smile off his face. Lifting his head, Lancer peered at the direction he came flying from.

He had crossed such a distance that even with his eyesight as good as an Archer's Lancer could barely see the figure of Berserker. In the distance, Berserker didn't move at all, as if he was asserting whether or not Lancer had survived.

"Hehehehahahahahahahaha! See you can do it! Now you make a worthy prey!" Lancer snickered, and he raised his spear, preparing to throw it. "So come over here, you beast!"

The second Broken Phantasm soared through the distance between Lancer and Berserker almost as as the spearman had done in the opposite direction a second ago. Of course, Berserker didn't fail to sense the incoming projectile and immediatly, one of the wings on his back moved to intercept it.

"██▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄█!"

But it had the effect Lancer desired: now that Berserker had confirmed his opponent was alive, he couldn't let him live. As Lancer materialized another spear in his hand, he saw the Berserker of Red leap in the distance; a jump so powerful Berserker's huge body ascended in the sky at a staggering speed, and would probably close the distance bewteen him and Lancer in this one jump. With his white wings spread across the clouds on each side of his body, illuminating the dark night like a gigantic bonfire, he truly looked like a furious angel coming to slay a demon.

Then, as Berserker was midway in the sky, he joined his hands together and raised them above his head to make a finale attack. At the same time, the two pillars of light on his back retracted and coiled around the arms and the joined fists, and changed their color from an immaculate white to a crimson red; like a flame of anger blazing brightly. Its red color seem to paint the sky as it reflected on the white of the clouds, like an announcement of doom.

Lancer hadn't moved from where he stood, and he didn't look like he would try to avoid Berserker's full might. Instead, he was stroking his chin, trying to gauge the power of the attack.

"Hm, B rank... no, at this point it will be as powerful as a A-rank Noble Phantasm." He confirmed, before readying his spear like a javelin. " **Angel's Wrath** , huh? I don't know which Heroic Spirit you are, but it truly is a great power you have. I don't think any shield can protect from something like this. To corner me into using my own Noble Phantasm..."

As the embodiment of divine destruction was pounding on him, Lancer didn't show a single hint of hesitation nor fear. The black spear in his hand started to change form -no, actually it was losing all form, instead becoming like a black lighting bolt in Lancer's hand, growing bigger and bigger with any passing second.

"No matter how powerful your attack is, I just have to make mine even stronger than that! Die, you beast of the Lord!"

The black lightningbolt Lancer held had become large than even its owner, squirming with enough power to make the ground tremble slightly. From it emanatted a disgusting, lacerating feeling of hate, a murderous intent equal to Berserker's.

Tightening his grip around what used to be the spear's handle, Lancer unleashed the true name of his Noble Phantasm as he threw it with all his might toward Berserker of Red.

" **Robustus Venator Coram Domino: My Hate for you, Lord**!"

"██▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄███▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄███▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄███▄██▀▐▄█▀!" And as if to answer, Berserker let out an ultimate roar as he swung his joined fists like a divine hammer toward Lancer's Noble Phantasm.

All sounds vanished.

All sensation vanished.

As the Noble Phantasms of the two legends collided, the only thing taht could be felt was an overwhelming power that pushed away everything. All the shocks and explosion from earlier were rendered insignificant compared to this one explosion, so mighty the earth not only shook, but also fissured like during an earthquake. The ruins of Harogd were far enough that what little remained of the town wasn't affected by the blast. On the other hand, the forest which had been right next to the center of the explosion wasn't spared. Like a cataclysm, half the forest was blown away by the outburst of magical energy that resulted from the collision between the two Noble Phantasm.

The intense brightness of the detonation was enough to chase the night away, even if only for an instant.

When sound came back, everything was painted over the ear-wretching cry of the explosion.

When finally the comotion ceased and the explosion disappeared, Berserker or Red and Lancer of White were both still standing amidst the scorched earth of the wasteland which resulted from the encounter.

 _ *** Rose Guns Days – Axelle-ratio**_

Lancer had actually managed to survive the explosion unscathed, first because he hadn't been at the center of the impact like Berserker, and also because he shielded himself with just as much power as he had put in his Noble Phantasm. Berserker, however, didn't have that chance: he was still standing firmly in front of his enemy, but his body was covered in severe burns which meleted away his skin, and hafl his face had been blown away by the heat of the explosion. Even his Noble Phantasm hadn't been enough to completely protect him it seemed.

But it wasn't all: although he was standing as strong as ever, the wings of light had disappeared from Berserker's back, and the Servant seemed so much weaker than before.

Noticing this, Lancer couldn't help but chuckle.

"Hahaha...are you finally exhausted, little prey?"

"██▄..." Berserker growled menacingly, but even then there was a distinct lack of strength.

Actually, the very fact that the Servant of Red wasn't attacking Lancer like he did previously was proof that he had exhausted his ressources. Understanding this, Lancer rested his hands on his spears and looked down at Berserker with an amused expression. The bright red of his eyes were shining with more malevolence than ever as he started to scratch the side of his head more and more frenetically.

"You're quite the unique Servant, you know? Or should I say you're stupid? To think you have so much power within you, and yet you only now decide to use it. A prey doesn't have the right to be picky, not at all not at all not at all not at all not at all!" He was now scratching so hard some blood came out from his temples and slipped between his charcoal black fingers. Then, he suddenly came to a stop, as if he was a machine of which the 'off' button had been pushed. " So I wondered: why didn't use it from the start? After all, had you used your full power from the get-go you would have stood a chance against me. So why why why why why?" The two bright red lights in his eyes looked up from Berserker to stare at the remains of Harogd far in the distance. "And then, I came to a conclusion: you're pruposefully holding back, aren't you? It's stupid for a Berserker whose only trump card is his strength! So why, why did you decide to hold back?! Surely you didn't think you could defeat me without using your full capacity, did you?! Even though your Master can't heal you?!...ah, that's right. Your Master can't heal you. Now that I think about it, I kinda overlooked her back then because she was so inexistant. I see. I see I see I see I see! Your Master isn't a magus I see. I see that she can't supply you with enough prana to fight to your fullest. So you want to see to it that she doesn't suffer, so you use as little magical energy as possible?! He. Heha. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahaahahahahahahaahahhahahahahahahahahaaaaaa! Are you stupid!" Without any warning, Lancer abruptly snapped from a madman's laughter to an expression of utter rage, and his eyes gleamed with an intense killing intent. "Protect somebody?! Moron, traitor, hypocrite! Yes, you really have to be hypocrites to think you could protect anyone, you who don't want to be protected. Dog of the Lord! You are a prey, nothing more than a prey, get it?! A prey doesn't worry about others, a prey only worry about themselves, until they get killed for worrying only about themselves! Whether you protect or flee, it's the same for a prey: you die by my hand!"

Lancer eventually paused, breathless and panting heavily. His expression gradually softened a little, and his signature smile reappeared as if it was never gone.

"Ah, but I can't blame you too much since I'm not any better. I have an idiot for a Master, you see. Enough of an idiot to summon me in the Lancer class, even though it's supposedly impossible. I'm supposed to be an Archer! Maybe a Rider or a Berserker, but a Lancer? And now I'm stuck with a spear and a poor excuse of a Noble Phantasm! Ah, but whatever." Lancer clenched his fist around his black spear. "It will be enough!"

Saying this, the giant spearman raised his spear abovehead to throw it. Howerver, he wasn't aiming at Berserker who was just in front of him; he was about to throw his spear much, much higher than that. Berserker understood too late that this killing intent wasn't directed toward him.

"██▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄█!"

In a movement which displayed a hint of anger, Lancer threw the spear which acended like the black shadow of death in the sky, relentlessly heading toward the ruins of the town for the Master that was left behind.

"██▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄█!"

* * *

 _ *** Umineko – Wingless**_

Back at Harogd, Leanne hadn't moved from where she stood ever since the battle between Berserker and Lancer moved away. Although, even if she had walked away and found a hiding place, she wouldn't have escaped Lancer's eyes. At the moment, she wasn't worrying about the destruction of thetown or even the gigantic explosion which just happened. She was sitting on the rubbles of a small grocery store which was one of the first victims of the fight; she was simply sitting there, and hands joined together and put against her forehead as if she was praying.

(Please Berserker, be safe. Be safe!) Was it because she understood her own powerlessness? At any rate, she had done nothing other than praying for her Servant's safety. (I don't care about the Holy Grail War and stuff like this! Please...just come back safely with me...!)

She...lost so many hings in her life. In fact, until not too long ago, she thought she had lost everything she had ever had. But then, so many things entered her life at once and without any subtlety. At first she had thought her luck was still going downhill, and she just decided to stay into that lethargic state moping around and pitying herself. But, although she never admitted it out loud, she truly was happy when she was with REVOC and Berserker. When she met Michael in the plane, she really had fun talking about things she had forgotten for she didn't know how long now. Somehow, she had managed to rebuild a new world in that unstable situation where she was now.

"That's why, please come back Berserker! Hic! I...don't want to lose someone again!"

Just as she maintained her praying position, tears formed in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. The warth of the tears contrasted with the cold of her face, making her all the more aware of them and fueling her hopelessness. She realized she must have looked pathetic in thsi very moment. However, that was outside her concern. All her thoughts was turned toward a single wish.

But her continuous plea was abruptly interrupted by a terrible chill on her back. She knew nothing of the situation between the two Servants fighting, but she could feel Lancer's killing intent directed to her intention. She raised her head from her folded hands to look at the night sky -it was way too dark for her to distinguish the black dart that was coming to slay her, not to mention her human eyes would not be able to locate it.

But this foreboding feeling of dread mixed with a cold sweat that broke all over her body, a second before the projectile reached its target, told her of her death.

(Ah...I'm...going to die, huh?)

Instinctively, she closed her eyes as though someone was about hit her, but once again she felt her own powerlessness. Then, in her last thought, she made a final prayer, that even if she's gone Berserker may survive somehow.

(Berse- _SLASHHHHH!_

Finally, the spear reached its target and the sounding of flesh being reapped resounded in this empty desolation.

...

But Leanne didn't feel any pain. Although the spear should have torn her body in half, all she felt was a great warmth envelopping her gently. She thought it was weird; normally when people die they should be cold instead. So why was she feeling so warm? Ah, it must have been, because she was already dead...

"██▄██▀▐▄█▀█▄█!"

"!" But just as she thought that, Leanne's thoughts were proven wrong by a recomforting roar she recognized instantly. She opened her eyes on the same winter scenery, and she saw the great figure holding her gently in his arms "...Berserker...?...Berserker!" She felt more tears welling up in her eyes, but this time the tears of regrets had been replaced with tears of relief. "Berserker, you're safe! Thank God you're safe! Berser-...ah..."

But Leanne realized, and she noticed that her clothes were drenched in blood. The blood of thsi strong guardian who even now was looking after her. Berserker's face was the same as ever, twisted with rage and his eyes clouded; yet there was a hint of sadness, even in his usually energic growls. Then, she saw the tip of the spear that was peeking out of Berserker's stomach.

"...No...Berserker, no! Don't...! Why did you...for me...?! Hic! Uwhaaa!"

Since his spiritual cores hadn't been destroyed, it would take more than that to kill Berserker. However, Leanne could feel it through her connection with her Servant: they shared the same hopelessness, the same feeling of not being able to save someone close to them. They were reunited and they were both alive, but why was it that they felt things were going to end now?

But Leanne knew it was only her fault, not Berserker's. She had heard from REVOC that Master could normally heal their Servants, but that she couldn't because she wasn't a magus. It was her fault too if Berserker wasn't able to fight with all he had. Everything was her fault; Berserker on the other hand, had done his best to protect her even though she didn't deserve to be protected.

And now, because of her, it was all going to end.

With a loud noise something large and heavy landed heavily on the ground behind Berserker. Neither of them needed to know who it was. The black reaper, who was going to put an end to their short-lived reuniting, displayed a deeply displeased expression, a mix of bitterness and anger. Although in the dead of night his pitch black frame was barely visible, his red eyes were locked on them, burning brightly with the determination to kill.

"So you decided to be a hypocrite until the end, Berserker!"

In his hand, black smoke gathered and swirled to form a new black spear.

"██▄██▀▐▄!"

True to himself, Berserker didn't wait around for Lancer to kill them. Acknowledging the presence of the deadly spearman, he turned his back to Leanne to face his opponent with a last defiant roar. No, it wasn't only to die with dignity or to fight until the end; Berserker was still trying to protect Leanne no matter what, standing between her and Lancer and shielding her with his immense body. Leanne didn't have that kind of courage: she was shamelessly gripping at Berserker's clothes from behind, crying and begging for it to stop.

"No, Berserker! I don't want to...hic!...I don't want to see you die! Run, Berserker! Please...don't diiiie!"

Lancer swung his spear around mercilessly and stabbed it into Berserker's foot, effectively preventing him to run away or even to move around. Thanks to his Mad Enhancement, Berserker couldn't feel pain, but maybe it was feeling a different kind of pain? Because his body twisted a bit and he let out a howl with a difficult expression. Maybe only Leanne could feel his pain, since the same pain was spreading in her chest.

Ah, she truly was powerless. But, if this was the end...then at least she was happy she could see Berserker one last time before that.

Lancer created another spear in his hand, this time holding it with both hands, ready to thrust it into Berserker's heart. With a spear in his stomack and another in his foot, there was no way Berserker's could avoid it. But the Servant of Red just spread his arms as if trying to stand as a shield, a barrier to take all the wounds of the world instead of Leanne. Of course, this feeling too would be crushed ruthlessly by Lancer of White.

"Then you can die together, foolish lambs of the Lord!"

Ah, the time had come. Lancer dashed like a wild tiger, spear first, toward the defenseless Berserker of Red. Swinging his arms, the blade of the spear came closer to Berserker and Leanne. In this last instant, Leanne just hugged Berserker's large body from behind, apologizing again and again.

(Sorry, Berserker.)

...- _THUUDD!_

* * *

 _ *** Rose Guns Days – mission No. 023**_

"Wh-what the hell happened around here?!" Rider exclaimed as he raced through the rest of Harogd on his chariot.

"Shit! I knew we should have come sooner! Damn, I hope Leanne is okay. Leo will strangle me if he learns I've let a poor woman get killed!"

"Are you more afraid of your nephew than of Leanne dying?!"

"Shut up and keep riding, Rider!"

To explain the situation, at the same moment Rider and Michael had stepped on Rider's flaming chariot and started heading toward the town to help Leanne and Berserker, there was that huge explosion far away. It's not like the chariot's course was affected in any way by the disturbance, but the great flash of light blinded Rider who then proceeded to panic and inadvertantly changed the chariot's course toward a direction that was not Harogd. It took them a few kilometers plus Michael slapping some sense into Rider, more litterally than figuratively, to get back on track and finally reach Harogd at last.

But when they arrived, they saw the town was mostly in ruin except for a small part.

"Please tell me the Association won't put the reparation fee on me. I mean, I was not even there! You can testify, right, Rider?!"

"Please just choose what you're most afraid of already!"

"Shut up, you don't understand adult problems you damn brat!"

"Shut up, old geezer! Because of your 'adult problems' my cheeks are hurting you know?!"

"I get it already, just ride, Rider!"

Rider's chariot was actually unrealistically fast, closing on the 300 km/h at maximum speed. However, because there was a human on board, and because they had to naviguate in the small (ruined) streets of Harogd, they had no choice but to slow down. The golden light emitted by the chariot acted as a pseudo-headlights, allowing them to actually see what as ahead of them to some extent. Now Michael was standing behind Rider as the latter was holding the reins, pinching his cheeks in the process.

"Hm? Hey, isn't that Leanne?!"

Michael suddenly distinguished two forms in one of the desolated streets. One of them was a giant man Michael had never seen before; the other was a smaller, human silhouette that vaguely looked like Leanne. There didn't seem to be anyone else with them; yes, they could only see two persons.

Noticing her as well, Rider made a sharp turn and headed their way.

"Alright, you can just stop it next to them!"

"Okay!...Wait, how do I stop this thing?!"

"What?! How would you not know?! You regulated the speed before!"

"T-that's just something I did on instinct!"

"Then use your instinct again!"

"B-but what if I run into her?!"

"God dammit, just pull the reins like that! Give me that!"

"Hey, don't touch that! A human can't handle it!"

"Well, sorry but the only superhuman here doesn't know how to goddamn stop his vehicle!"

"Okay, okay, I get it! I'll pull so let goooo!"

Michael was thankful deep down that only the two of them were here to see this pitiful display. At any rate, by the time the two reached an agreement they actually aarrived at Leanne's height.

 _THUUDD!_

There a great 'thud' and Rider felt a reverb as if the chariot just hit something. On the other hand, the impact served as the last gear to stop the vehicle.

"Wh- did we hit something?!" Michael inquired

"I-I don't know, I didn't see anything! Or...wait I think maybe we hit something that was completely black. I swear I couldn't see it in this darkness!"

"I-I hope it was a dog or a big hedgehog. I don't want to have a death on my mind!"

Leaving that aside, the two had finally found Leanne, hugging the giant figure they had seen before. Speaking of which, that big man looked pretty badly wounded.

"Hey, is that Berserker? Seriously, what happened here?!"

Leanne finally realized what had happened. She lifted her head and peeked out from behind Berserker and saw the two hopeless clowns on their chariot, sighing with relief and sweating heavily for some reasons. Saying she felt relief at seeing the two who came to rescue her would be an understatement. A new wave of tears came down, and with the pression now gone she fell to her knee. It was hard to tell who was more ridiculous right now, Rider with his cheeks bright red (and Michael holding them), or Leanne crying like a kid on the ground.

"W-wait don't cry Leanne!" Rider pleaded. "I know we look pathetic but please don't add insult to injury!"

"Whaaaaaaa! Thank yooouuuuu!"

"Why are you thanking uuuus!?"

Just as Master and Servant were panicking, the chariot suddenly shook violently, and looking back the two saw a humongous black man standing on the railing of the golden chariot, looking all pissed.

Realization dawned on Rider as to what had happened here.

"Ah, you're the person we ran over! I'm seriously sorry, but if you could step down my chariot it will be easier to apologize!"

"...Why, you little...!"

Lancer of White was struck with rage, frustrationa and disbelief. He held out his hand toward the sky and another spear appeared, ready to be swung immediatly at Rider.

"Die, die, die...!"

* * *

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _Phew, what a rollercoaster this chapter was. I think I may have gone a bit overboard with all the extremely detailed description._

 _So, did you think Leanne was gonna die? You wouldn't have been wrong seeing how I offed Linandir without any mercy. Anyway, Rider and Michael save the day! Which was a strange peak of comedy fro a chapter that was mainly depressing and sad._

 _Once again, thank you for reading this chapter! Don't hesitate to comment, review or ask a question!_

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	15. Chapter IV: I am!

_A/N: Hi everyone, and thank you in advance for reading this chapter of Fate/Rongodamiant. I'm just here to list the musics for this chapter._

 _ *** Higanbana – Live Strong, as the Flowers Bloom**_

 _ *** Higanbana – The Moon Draped Over Pure Darkness**_

 _ *** Higurashi – Gray**_

 _ *** Umineko – Witch in gold (cembalo)**_

 _ *** Higurashi – You destructive**_

* * *

 _ *** Higanbana – Live Strong, as the Flowers Bloom**_

Everything started twelve years ago, by some sort of unlikely coincidence.

Or maybe it was simply 'Fate' -that is, the everyday coincidences which humans like to think are set in stone by some invisible force. As ridiculous as it may sound, there are many more coincidences in the tale called 'life' than results of our own actions. Because it happened to be sunny, a boat was able to sail without trouble. Because someone was misfortunate, somebody else was greatly fortunate. Because two persons happened to be walking down the same street, they spent the rest of their life together. But once these unlikely flukes have happened, no miracle, no coincidence can wipe them off the unseen lines of history. They just happened and suddenly it'd become impossible how things would have been if these accidents hadn't happened.

That's why, because the past is so unbending humans would sometime think it was meant to happen, we like to convince ourselves that the future will be the same. Of course, that is a foolish idea. Because there happened to be a storm, a boat wasn't able to reach its destination and sank. Because someone was fortunate, somebody else lost their fortune. Because one of the two was reaped by this so-called fate, they couldn't spend their whole life together.

But, coincidences did happen, didn't they? And they were cast in stone, so why did everything have to change because of coincidences you didn't ask for? Some we'll say that that's just how life is. Yes, that was right. Life's made of miracles and absurdities which were eventually confused with the ordinary. But that wasn't all. Even if it was only a tiny part of it, there was also the result of our actions and our resolve. Then, if 'fate' is unforgiving, you only have to stop relying on it and take your life into your own hands.

Again, it all started twelve years ago by a whim of fate, the unlikely meeting between a girl in a wheelchair sheltering herself inside her own kingdom of silence and of books, and a lost girl who needeed someone just as lonely as she was. To be sure it was a miracle that the two of them ever crossed path with each other.

At the time, all the girl named Silvelune Arbonnaux did with her days was remaining behind the castle walls that was her house, inside this other dimension so unchanged as time passed by she couldn't see it dripping between her finger, waning one drop at a time. In this library that had been her sanctuary as far as her memories would allow her to remember, the only proof that time existed was her growing body and the addition of new books to her shelves. But she herself didn't change at all from when she was a kid; she was still a chick curled up inside its egg, too weak to break open this shell; this comfortable shell which isolated her from the rest of the world.

That's right: she was weak.

Since the day she was born, Silvelune's body had been frail, quick to fatigue and unable to bear any great effort. As such, although she was the result of a carefully planned marriage to mix two ancient magi family as to give birth to a top-class magus, she had been too fragile to use any complicated magecraft, let alone use her body as she wished. This wheelchair she was sitting in was like the library that was her home: she couldnt remember a time when she wasn't in it. She probably hadn't been able to take her first steps as a baby. Although she could technically move around without the help of her wheelchair, merely walking would tire her out withing ten minutes. Thus she never really developped her physical abilities, whereas it was strength or stamina. In this situation, even giving birth correctly would be difficult to her.

'A failure' was what she was called back then.

She didn't care of course. Because her parents had been neglecting her since they learned she wouldn't amount to anything, she hadn't grown to feel indebted to them for giving birth to her. Her parents were typical magi, and so was she even without the ability to use more than single-verse spells. They abandoned her in this mansion with this library for sole occupation, and to her they might as well have never existed in the first place.

One day, she simply learned their death out of the blue. She didn't have the slightest idea what they might have been up to at the time, or even where they were, but a magus walks alongside death for their whole life, so dying was hardly surprising. Taht's how she received the news. No sadness, no secret emotion suddenly revealing itself from the depth of her subconscious. If anything, she was bothered that she was now the head of the family,a family composed of her, herself and she only. It seemed her parents didn't try to give borth to another heir, probably not wanting to see such failure a second time. That too was fine with her; she had grown up caring only about what book to read next, so something like a younger sibling would have been a pain to deal with.

That was the story of how Silvelune Arbonnaux was born alone and came to sink even deeper in her isolation. Groceries and the likes were taken care of by servants she saw once per day at best, so it was no exaggeration to say that the only human relationships she ever knew were those she read about in her books.

That was, until someone made their way into her inorganic secret garden by pure coincidence.

A lonely little girl around the same age as her who had just recently moved in the capital and had lost her way amidst these unfamiliar streets. There was supposed to be a Bounded Field around Silvelune's mansion to ward off commoners and salesmen, as if to further underline the fact she had accepted her loneliness as a given. The only ones allowed to even realize the mansion's existence were the servants, obviously, and those who weren't affected by such a low-level Bounded Field. That is to say, someone like a magus.

Hence you could imagine her surprise when some random little girl came ringing to her door to ask for direction. There was no need for the maid to make her come in, but they seldom decided to have her wait here the time that her father came to pick her up. Well, she was never a popular master to begin with. But isn't it just plain cruel to send a stranger little girl in her library? She seriously thought she was gonna have a heart attack from the simple fact this girl talked to her. Even when she ignored her and wanted to focus on reading, the little girl wouldn't stop sniffing and insisting. What a pain.

It might be obvious already, but the girl's name was Maria Argas.

On this day, this random meeting pierced through Silvelune's walls of loneliness. This world, which she had maintained and nurtured for years to keep her away from the rest of the world, was shredded to pieces in the blink of an eye by this little girl, and it never fully recovered from it. From this day on, the domain of loneliness had accepeted the existence of a new being called Maria Argas.

"Where...where...!"

Yet, for the second time, her world was being wrecked ruthlessly by the same girl.

"Where...did she go...! Where..."

Inside the vast underground library, hidden deep beneath the surface of earth and ruled by the tyrant that was silence, said silence had given way to the sound of numerous books being thrown away furiously and of furniture breaking. Those books she had spent so much time arranging in her own way in this realm of her. The silence she had valued so much. Ironically, she has been trampling over all of that from the moment she noticed the most important part of her world had disappeared.

When Silvelune came back from her walk with Berserker, she headed to the table where Maria had been sleeping peacefully only to find the spot empty. But how? She had cast a sleeping spell on her, so she shouldn't have been able to...!

But she was gone. Although Silvelune was furiously rampaging around her library she already knew it was no use. This bibliotheca was like a gigantic Mystic Code to her, so she would have known if Maria was still somewhere in there. Thinking back on it, she should have put a Bounded Field to detect anyone leaving the library. She had been careless.

"Dammit...! _Cough_! _Cough_ , _cough_! Ah..."

It wasn't good for her to move her body around so vigorously despite her body's feebleness. Quickly enough, she started coughing violently as her body was taken over by some feverish sensation. When she stopped running wild, she realized her body was dripping with sweat, and that she was panting heavily as though she had just ran a 100 meters dash. Yes, that was the limits of this body.

"Dammit...dammit!" She ragefully slammed her fist against her wheelchair's arm, but even that felt less like a punch and more like a snowball crashing into a wall.

"Stop."

She could have started crying if not for Berserker placing his hand in her shoulder. When she looked around at her Servant's face, she saw an understanding glint in his eyes. Although he was a Berserker, he could be curprisingly sane at times. He was probably the only one who understood how she felt this very instant.

"Berserker..." She urged him in a frail voice, ordering him with just his name.

"Understood." The Servant of Black nodded and obliged. His body vanished as he tyrned into his spiritul form, and almost immediatly Berserker's presence escaped the inside of the library.

Her lungs begging for air, Silvelune leaned back against her wheelchair and lifted her face to gaze at the ceiling. Actually, the ceiling was so high that it was impossible to see it from the floor because of the lack of luminosity. It didn't matter anyway since what she was looking at was beyond this ceiling, beyond this world. She was starring at something which once happened, by sheer chance only and had changed her life forever.

Human lives were mostly made of coincidences, and only a tiny amount of it was the result of our own will. And these coincidences invite other miracles to happen, and there was nothing she could do about it. Because a girl happened to be born with a weak, impotent body she was condemned to be alone her whole life. Because a girl happened to be born with a weak, impotent body, one day she met with another girl and eventually fell in love.

Those two miracles were contradictory, weren't they? That was probably why...today again, she was alone. She could only curse this weak body for her misery. Finally, Silvelune straightened her head and looked down at a book which had fallen on her thighs. A heavy, old-looking book which shared an uncanny ressemblance with a grimoire. It was the book she had used as a Catalyst to summon Berserker, although it had been nothing more than an accident. It was an original that had never been published, so she was the only one to have ever read it aside from the author. It was also an unfinished book as the writer had died before he had a chance to complete it. Yet, for some reson it was also Silvelune's favorite book. Because it had been written by someone similar to her, a person who cursed their life and prefered to lock themselves in a fake dream.

It was also the book sha had been reading that day.

* * *

 **Chapter XIV: I am...!**

* * *

 _ *** Higanbana – The Moon Draped Over Pure Darkness**_

Standing atop Rider of Red's chariot and glaring down the coachman, Lancer of White towered above all the the persons present on this battlefield. With the chariot's size, he easily reached the five meters in height. In the darkness of the night, he felt no different from a monstrous creature, his blood red eyes radiating with pure hate. Even before the giant moved to attack Rider, the latter had been on his guard: after all, it was hard to miss such intense bloodlust.

"Die, die, die!"

With a howl filled with so much bloodthirst it sent chills down Rider's spine, the Servant fo White swung his massive spear down on Rider's head, drawing a black arc that he couldn't have seen had he not been a Servant. As a matter of fact, even if he could see it the attack was too fast for him to even draw his sword. But it didn't matter, sicne he already had his hands firmly grasped around his chariot's reins.

At the same moment Lancer moved his arm to pierce Rider's skull, the Servant of Red pulled on the reins in a swift movement. Immediatly, the horses attached the carriage reared violently, and the whole chariot shook at once. It was far from enough to destroy Lancer's balance and make him fall, but it was more than sufficient to deviate his spear's trajectory, and the pitch black blade swung into empty air just inches away from Rider's temple. Just the thought of what would have happened had he not reacted immediatly was enough to make beads of sweat form on Rider's forehead. But he couldn't allow himself to falter here; from the damage had suffered, it was clear this opponent was no joke.

As the tip of Lancer's spear passed by his head, Rider didn't miss this opportunity: quickly, he snapped the reins and had the horse charge forward at max speed. At the same time, he swung his elbow backward to hit Michael. The attack was effective and Rider's Master flew out of the chariot just as the latter entered mach speed and rapidly moved far away from Leanne and Michael.

 _Rider, what the...!_ Michael contacted Rider mentally to demand an explaination.

 _Stay way, old geezer! This guy is bad news so I've gotta keep him away!_

 _Wait, are you sure you can take him on?! Rider!_

Rider didn't bother to answer and ignored Michael's calls. He didn't have the leisure to keep a mental connection when fighting.

Following the sudden acceleration, Lancer's large body wasn't able to maintain its balance and Lancer was almost thrown off the charging chariot. The Servant of the Spear nonetheless stood firm and held on even though his body was almost as large as the chariot itself.

"Damn you, why are you so stubborn?!" Rider complained, although at this speed there was little chance his voice could reach Lancer's ears.

Even so, the spearman smiled cruely as though he had heard him.

"Charioteers truly are fools as well. Although they are indeed powerful on their mount," The menacing black spear was held high for the second time, ready to strike. He wouldn't be disrupted as easily this time around. "But once their chariot has stopped moving, they become the weakest of preys!"

However, unlike Rider had expected, the blade of the spear didn't come down to kill him. Instead, Lancer swung his weapon powerfully behind his back with the same precision as if he had been looking. Rider couldn't understadn what he had done at first, but his whole body froze when he saw the hot red liquid that came raining down on his face as though somebody had spilled a bucket's worth of blood in front of his chariot. _Although the blood came from his chariot_.

The earwretching neighing of two horses covered Rider's body with a cold sweat as two of the four steeds that were pulling his **Helios** disappeared in a flash of fire.

(That...asshole! He's going for my horses first!)

They may have simply been here to drive the chariot, but those were nonetheless Phantasmal Beast class creatures that shouldn't have gone down so easily. Now, with half the horses gone, Rider's Noble Phantasm started losing a lot of speed. This wasn't enough for Lancer who rotated his spike to slay the remaining steeds.

"Like hell I would let you!" Refusing to just watch his stallions get slaughtered idly without inetrvening. Lancer was dangerously right when he said a charioteer is nothing without his chariot; if Rider allowed him to depossess him of his greatest trump card now, there was no way he could match this unknown Servant who was able to defeat Berserker. "Get off my father's chariot (even if it's not the true one)!"

Although the abrupt acceleration earlier couldn't knock Lancer off, the latter still had to focus to keep even a precarious balance. So Rider only had to give a little push to get rid of him. And by little push, he meant making a curve so abrupt he would throw up his past live's breakfast.

Clutching to his reins with as much confidence as he could muster, Rider pulled on them as if he was trying to tear them off. The result wa snot made to wait: the golden chariot did a 90° curve so suddenly even he, as a Servant, could feel the pressure weight down his body.

After making what Rider hoped was a dumbfounded face -since he couldn't actually see anything-, Lancer's body vanished almost instantly, being thrown away at high speed into the night's sky. But when he looked back, Rider's hair stood on their end when he saw this ridiculously huge body land almost gracefully on the ground, like a tiger or a panther, and dart his gleaming red eyes at him through the darkness. Less than a secodn after he touched the ground, Lancer of White vanished again from Rider's vision field.

(Shit, shit, shit...!)

In an actual chase, there was nothing scarier than not knowing where the pursuer was while still being conscious they're near.

Rider went full throttle across the night with his chariot; which meant, unfortunately, only half his original speed. Beyond the noise of the horses' galloping and of the wheels' fricion against the ground, he could hear the frenzied race of Lancer of White actually running after him. Just in case, Rider drew his sword from its sheath and kept his guard up, conscious that fighting was unavoidable.

As it turned out, it was a good initiative: when suddenly Rider couldn't hear Lancer behind him and thought maybe he had lost him, out of nowhere a massive shadow jumped on him from his right side.

"So fast...!"

Rider only had the time to raise his sword to parry the attack. The sound of metal clashing against metal echoed, and sparks flew out in all directions. He somehow managed to bear the strength of attack in spite of his surprise, and once again Lancer left teh light emitted by the golden chariot to join the realm of the night. For a moment, Rider was simply astounded at the idea that Lancer could catch up with him when he had his chariot.

(No way. Even if I lost half my speed, my chariot is still on par with a Divine Construct! I stillhave enough pace that standing in my way would be like suicide! Even a Servant wouldn't remained unharmed; what kind of speed is this!)

He had heard the Lancer class (which he assumed was his opponent's class) was the fastest of all seven on foot; but Rider was supposed to be faster than even that!

(Where is he now...?)

This time around, Rider couldn't allow his enemy to be one step ahead of him and to keep ambushing him. Instead of relying on his five senses to locate Lancer, he used his nature as a Servant to feel his presence. The bloodthirst emanatting from the spearman made it even easier to spot him, even if he had been hiding in a crowd (which, given his size, wasn't powwible anyway). Now both Servant could see each other clearly, but Rider couldn't get rid of this anxiousness squeezing his stomach. It was beyond the feeling that someone was watching you; he could almost imagine Lancer breathing down his neck.

" **Mighty Hunter**..." Rider had heard about this ability possessed by the greatest hunters, the power of tracking down a prey no matter the distance. "I see, so that's the kind of Heroic Spirit he is: a celebrated hunter who doesn't let any prey escape."

However, taht was normally a skill to be used against animals and Phantasmal Species. Just what kind of hunter was he to hunt down humans?

But just as he mused about his foe's essence, Rider could feel the spearman's bloodlust suddenly accelarate and rush in his direction.

"Here he comes again!"

But this time, the charioteer was waiting for him. As the black figure lept out of the shadows to thrust his spear at Rider's chest, the latter clenched his hands tightly around the handle of his sword and didn't fail to repel the assault. Rider already knew from the previous encounters that Lancer had more strength than him, so this time before parrying, he tilted the direction of his chariot slightly and used the momentum to back up his own strength.

For the second time, sparks flew out at the collision between the black spear and the radiant sword. An instant during the encounter between the two blades, their gazes crossed and Rider felt a chill go down his spine as those eyes imbued with madness stared into him. But he couldn't falter here. He wouldn't allow it, no matter what! The one who was caught off guard this time was Lancer who hadn't expected this trick of Rider's, and was pushed away.

The end result was the same as before though, and the black giant resumed his hunt immediatly. In his head, Rider couldn't compare Lancer with a hunt dog nor a bird of prey. The unknown Servant was like a whole new kind of hunting creature.

"I don't give a damn about that...!" Rider muttered in his breath to ward off the fear crepting up in his mind.

Although he might be called a Heroic Spirit, Rider wasn't much of a hero. He wasn't as courageous as a hero should be, not as clever and not as powerful. The sole act of his that was remembered by mankind is one of foolishness that brought about destruction. But...

"I don't need to be a hero to fight for someone else!" He shouted at the darkness, hoping it would reach his opponent's ears.

Yes. It didn't matter wether he was a hero or not. This Servant, Rider of Red, will stand up and fight when push comes to shove! Even if he shares the same fears as normal humans, just like humans he wanted to protect what he held dear even if he had to die in the process. Even if his enemy was that fearsome Servant.

(I can't let him get near Michael and Leanne, even if it kills me!)

Sheathing his sword back, Rider bit his lips and took hold of the reins. This chariot, its original he had tried to drive in vain, was the greatest source of fear he knew. And yet, he could now ride it without an ounce of hesitation. It wasn't only because if his own resolve. He had someone to thank fro giving him support and courage, and he wouldn't let that man die.

Handling the reins as though he had done this his whole life, Rider made a sharp U-turn and faced that monster he was supposed to be afraid of. He still couldn't see him clearly in the dead of the night, but he could see his eyes glowing ominously, he could feel them glaring at him heinously.

"I shouldn't be running!" He howled defiantly. "You should be the one coweriiiiiing!"

The Lancer of White accepted the challenge.

* * *

"God damn it, that huge idiot...!"

Since Rider had made up his mind, Michael could only gnaw his thumb in anxiety. The problem that was worrying him at the moment wasn't exactly this unknown enemy that Rider was facing.

"Rider, you are still thinking about that, aren't you? Damn!"

* * *

Across the wide wasteland illuminated by the moonlight, which had resulted from Berserker's ultimate attack, two existances could be seen. One was of gold and light and seemed a ray on sun dancing solitarily evena after the day was gone. Another was of a dark so deep the light of the night seemed to be avoiding him. One was a warrior shouting proudly while the other was snickering a wild and eerie laugh. The golden chariot and Lancer of White roamed through the devasted land in all directions, crossing paths what seemed ten sencond for them, but was in fact less than two.

The sparks and shockwaves resulting from their otherworldly battle became more and more frequent as the fight raged on and the number of collisions multiplied. Eventually, the two of them were less fighters than they were shooting stars, unevitably confronting each other.

However, although Rider was successfully holding his own against Lancer, the fight was far from being two-sided. Just as he did in the fight against Berserker of Red, Lancer had the upper hand when it came to speed. Even though Rider's Noble Phantasm should have been making for that more than enough, the deciding factor was ultimately agility: Rider was continuously chasing after Lancer in an attempt to hit him full on with his vehicle, but Lancer had no problem avoiding the golden chariot and attacking Rider directly. Thatw as why, it couldn't be said that the two Servants were fighting on equal footing.

Nonetheless, it would also be wrong to think this was a one-sided battle. Each encounter, each clash of their weapon gave Rider more information about his opponent's power and fighting style. Even when Lancer threatened to kill him with attacks too fast to react to, Rider alawys managed to pull through and to keep up by harrassing Lancer and not giving him any second to take a breath.

To be true, this tactic wasn't without risk: there was no way of telling if Lancer was actually being weared down by the combat, and there was a limit as to how long Rider could pull it off. In the end, he had to successfully land an attack on Lancer and to put an end to this as soon as possible.

But there was another problem...

"All talk and no action, it is." Lancer took avantage of one of their encounter to mock him with a derisive grin, before pulling away again.

(Shut up.)

"You're an entertaining prey to hunt down. But aren't you getting desperate here?"

(Shut up...)

"A bit of courage might be enough for a dog to beat a wolf." The scornful voice pestered him as the tip of a spear came flying at his side, repelled by a hair's breadth by a sword. "But it will never be enough to put down a lion!"

" _Shut up_!"

Prana and stamina notwithstanding, it was Rider's moral that was suffering the most. He was a Heroic Spirit known for having screwed up big time, not a great fighter or anything of the sort. He was barely containing the uncertainty and fear threatening to overtake him. Even as a charioteer his skill was only due to his high Riding rank. In short, he had virtually no fighting experience worthy of a timeless warrior. On the other hand, he didn't need a discerning eye to understand Lancer was a complete monster in that aspect. The way he was circling around him and toying with his nerves was slowly arousing Rider's distress and was driving his emotions into a corner before he could even exhaust himself.

Only his sense of duty and his legendary recklessness were able to make up for it.

"I don't care how strong you are." He whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. "I don't care how scared I am. And I surely don't give a damn about how weak I am! I'm a pretty stubborn guy so don't hope I'll give up so easily!"

For the umpteenth time, Rider made a turn back to race in a straight toward Lancer's ridiculously huge frame.

"It's useless. It's all useless!" The spear man sneered and raised his massive spike to deliver another strike.

Yes, it was useless. No matter how panicked Rider was, even he should understand using the same patern hundreds of time would hardly produce a different result in this situation. He had to be quite the idiot to persevere in vain like that...was what Rider wanted him to think.

Just as Rider's Noble Phantasm was closing in on Lancer who was ready to welcome him, all of sudden the golden glow emitted by the chariot's frame increased tenfold, to the point it became like a small star. At the same time, the wheels and the immaculate white horses pulling the carriage were engulfed in an intense fire scorching enough that the dirt nearby was reduced to cinder, and the speed of the vehicle became greater than it was before Lancer halved it.

That was in detail only. As far as anyone could tell, Rider and his carriage just suddenly took off like a rocket, taking Lancer by surprise and hitting him full force faster than a shockwave.

"What...is...!"

There was virtually nothing Lancer could have done to avoid the surprise outburst. At the last second he tried to put his spear between him and the charging Noble Phantasm, but the weapon was literally vaporized by the power of the stampede combined with the hit. An so, Lancer of White could do nothing but being hit at full speed by an attack that had the destructive power of a bombardment.

It didn't stop there though; Lancer was mercilessly ran over by the chariot which then proceeded to leave the ground and take flight, propelling the black Servant in the air in the process.

Like a shooting star, Rider and Lancer soared through the dark firmament.

Even Rider had to squint not to be blinded by the intense brightness of his own vehicle. Using this trump card of his made him feel even weirder than before: it reminded him of that day when he died. It was the same as that time; the chariot made of an unearthly material, riding on the air like a sun. No, not like a sun. It _had been_ the sun. But this was different, today he wasn't helpless like he had been back then. Today he was overcoming the hurdles in his way like a genuine hero.

This trick he had saved for last was a sure-kill technique using ths connection between his chariot and the original it was based on, allowing it to get closer to the latter's power. It would only last for an instant, it had the force to crush any hero or monster in its way.

So...why...?

"N-no...that's not...possible...!"

But there was no mistaking it: Rider still felt Lancer of White's eyes staring down his neck like a butcher before cutting off a chicken's head. But there was no way. There was absolutely no way. He had been hit head on this attack which was the best Rider could to pull out. He hadn't dodged like before,a nd he wasn't able to block, so there was no doubt Rider had successfully hit his target.

?

The blood circulating in Rider's body froze up, and all teh Servant of the Mount could hear was the intensifying beating of his hearts as he saw two distinctive glints glaring at him from beyond the flames.

Then he saw it clearly: Lancer of White had survived the chariot's ultimate charge _completely unharmed_.

"There's no way... there's no waaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy!"

Rider could feel it coming back all at once, the sensations from that time. The despair. The panic. The hopelessness. They all made their way inside his heart at the same time and a scream resounded in his head. All he had been able to do back then was screaming.

"Not this tiiiiiiimmmeeeee!"

He...couldn't let this feeling hoverwhelm him a secodn time!

His attack had been to uneffective. Lancer pushing his arms against the chariot, unbothered by the flames that should have burnt him to the bones, nor by the unrealistic ressure put on his body by the charge of the vehicle. If that was the case, then Rider's last option was to use even greater power, somehow.

In the span of a second, Rider modified his chariot's direction from upward to downward, and the flaming golden chariot charged toward the ground at an astounding speed. The impact would likely be no different from that of a comet falling so there was no telling the extent of the destruction he would cause, but he had no choice.

"Diiiiiiiieeeeee!"

This was Rider's last hope.

"Fool. Is this the best you can do against this king?"

And this single hope was mercilessly taken away from him by a chuckling voice.

Before the chariot could collide with the earth, Lancer held out his hand to materialize a black spear. Then, he simply jumped off from the chariot. The spearman didn't land on his feet, but instead thrust his spear into the ground before using it like a pole to jump back in direction of Rider.

Before Rider could understand what was going on, he felt a dull pain as Lancer's leg sunk into his side and sent him flying off his own vehicle. The chariot was still a hundred meters in the air at this moment, so the landing was any softer and Rider bounced back several time on the ground.

 _ *** Higurashi – Gray**_

A muffled groan of pain escaped his mouth. He could feel pain spreading into his whole body. He was used to feel pain, but not the kind of pain you could receive from being beaten into a pulp. With difficulty, Rider managed to get on his knees.

As for the chariot, without even looking he knew it had disappeared. It was normal: since this golden chariot was the manifestation of his hubris, without its coachman it might as well not exist if Rider didn't allow it to.

After he raised his head, all Rider could see was his own powerlessness, one more time. His **Helios: Mighty Star, Curse of my Hubris** had been entirely useless, even though it was his strongest trump card. Lancer was right, no amout of effort had allowed him to close the gap between him and his opponent. He even remembered some unpleasant stuff in the process.

For some reason, another memory was surfacing in his mind. That was the moment of his death. Why was he remembering that, he wondered. Ah, that was because he had felt the same back then. Floating down a river, his body scorched with his consciousness already fading away to never wake up again. What he felt when his clouded eyes looked up the bright sky one last time...was regret. The sensation that all his efforts and hardship had been in vain.

Or maybe he had just felt like apologizing to someone. Since, after all, he was the only one who ruined everything once again.

"Damn...it...all." With a weak, coarse voice, Rider stood up painfully. "Damn it...all!"

He came back in this world because of one stupid wish, which meant the world to him. It was a ridiculous wish, and yet the one who summoned him didn't laugh at all. Indeed, just like he did before his death, he felt pathetic and powerless. But...his feeling that there is someone he wants to protect hadn't disappeared. It was only a few words, but what Michael did for him was irreplaceable and Rider was determined to pay him back.

He raised his sword, the only weapon he had left, and held it as tight as he could with both his hands. Though, in all honesty it felt less like he was holding it and more like he was holding on it. The weight of the weapon in his hands was giving back some confidence to him.

Just in front of him, standing tall and looking down on Rider with a cruel smile, was Lancer of White. Rider already thought so back then, but now that he had stepped down his chariot he fully realized just how big Lancer was. This giant body of his had an insurmontable feeling to it, as if he was the shadow of Moira itself. But it was alright. He was used to that feeling.

He had already dided once, so he was scared of death anymore. It didn't matter if he died, if it was for someone's sake.

Rider leapt forward, his blade held high above his head. Lancer didn't move at all; he simply looked at his coming to kill him as if that was an amusing thing to watch. When he unleashed an attack at Lancer's chest, Rider was surprised to feel a strong resistance, as though he had attacked an iron armor instead of skin.

When he looked, he confirmed that his sword didn't do any significant wound on Lancer's charcoal black body. He had only been able to draw a slight line across the black skin that was as hard as steel, a wound so shallow it was barely better than when a cat clawed at a wooden floor. And yet it was still better than when he hit Lancer with his chariot, even though the latter was a replica of a Divine Construct.

(A...replica...?)

And then, realization dawned upon him. But it was too late, and as if he was no longer amused by Rider's hopelessness, Lancer held up his spear, and would bring it down any second now.

(Heh...I'm really a failure of a hero, ain't I?)

"Now it's time to die, foolish little prey."

But just as he was about to finish off Rider, the latter heard a voice resound in his head through mental connection.

 **By this Command Seal, Rider I order you to come back to me!**

A strong, unfathomable power filled his body and, without any warning, a crimson red light appeared and envelopped Rider's body just as a black spear descended toward his cranium.

Immediately though, the light disappeared and Rider wasn't on the vast field with Lancer of White anymore. Someone else was standing there, facing him. It was Michael, though Rider had already guessed as much when he heard his voice through their shared mental connection. He looked down at Michael's hand where the Command Seals, which used to make a form similar to a triskele, were engraved. Only two were left, and only a blur mark was left in place of the one Michael used to teleport him back.

For record, Rider knew Michael would use a Command Seal to save him if things went awry for him. Well, he didn't know for sure since they didn't agree on anything of sort beforehand. It was just... Michael was the kind of person to move Heaven and Earth when someone close to him was in danger, so he hoped...he was in that category. It was more a hunch than anything, but it was still a proof of how much respect he had for his Master.

Right now however, Michael was looking down at him with a difficult expression without saying a word. But rather than difficult, it was easier to say he looked pissed. It was a rather new experience for Rider, being stared down by someone angry at him. Right before his death, there was nobody like that around him. In fact, there wasn't anybody at all.

"..."

"..."

Rider's emotion were also complicated at the moment. More than relieved, he felt tired, apolegetic and pathetic, even more so since Michael was looking at him like that. He couldn't help but hang his head down and look at the ground, not supporting the silent stare anymore. Michael was waiting for him to say something; clearly, itw as an apology he expected. T'was right: Rider screwed up big time. He really thought he could do it, but all his tricks failed so the only result was failure.

"Michael, I..." He started in a feeble voice. He wanted to say something, but only half of it came out of his throat, and the other half was pushing its way through painfully. "I'm sorry I made you waste a Command Seal-"

 _PUNCH-!_

Rider barely had the time to finish his sentence that Michaels fist came flying to his face without holding back one little bit. Michael probably punched him as hard as he could, but since Rider was a Servant it had little more effect on his than a poke. Even so, he felt the full impact of this punch as if it had come from a giant, and he could only open his eyes wide with surprise.

"What are you, an idiot?!" And before he could reciver from the shock, Rider felt Michael grab him by the collar, bring their face close and shout at him from the top of his lungs. "You completely ignored me when I tried to warn you, you kept fighting stubbornly even though your clearly had the higher ground, and when I actually bring you back you give me this sorry face?!"

Ah, so Michael saw everything through Rider's own eyes, huh? It made sense after all; if he hadn't he wouldn't have known Rider was about to get killed. Now the Servant felt even more pathetic than before.

"Hey, got anything to say?!" Michael shook him by the collar. "Don't give me that shit, where did your wits go?! ' _Sorry for making you waste a Command Seal_ ', don't give me that crap and put on a smile, idiiioot!"

"...huh?" Rider's head suddenly lifted and his eyes met with Michael's. His Master's expression was the same as before, but teh way he was looking at Rider had changed, less furious than it was sad.

"Listen, Rider!" Michael put Rider back on the ground but didn't let go of his collar. "You don't have anything to prove to anyone, and especially not me! If an enemy is too strong, then there's nothing wrong with running away!"

"Eh...n-no, I did that because it was the only optio-"

"Idiot!" Michael interrupted him by shouting even louder, if that was possible. "Look at me right in the eyes and tell me that again! ' _I'm must act like a hero_ ', ' _I can't let him through_ ', ' _I've got to do this somehow_ '; I bet you were thinking stuff like while you were fighting! What kind of reasoning is that?! I'd rather have a living Servant than a dead hero! I don't care if a Servant is supposed to protect his Master, or if you are a superhuman: how am I supposed to just look at you die and say ' _Well, that's what a Servant is for_ '! If you still believe crap like that then I've got another punch for you!" As if finally taking a breath after this long tirade, Michael heaved a deep sigh. Then, in a softer voice. "So it's okay. You don't have to try harder than you can just for my sake."

"..."

Rider could only stare at Michael in disbelief, his eyes wide from the shock, as his Master's words sank in and inscribed themselves on his mind. It was the first time someone scolded him so hard. It was the forst time someone scolded him at all.

Even after his brain understood what just happened, Rider couldn't speak nor move, except for his head which he lowered to stare at the ground. Seeing his lack of reaction, Michael just let go of his collar and walked past Rider.

"I don't know who this Servant was, but you led him far away enough. Leanne and Berserker are waiting for us over there. Let's go, Rider."

"...I'm supposed to be the Servant..."

"Hm?"

But before Michael could leave, without turning around Rider managed to utter a few words.

"...yet I just keep failing...and giving everyone worries, it seems..." He tried to speak in a neutral tone, but his voice was unavoidably burdened by an undescribable emotion. Was it relief, sorrow or frustration? Or was it all those at the same time.

"What kind of nonsense are you spouting again?"

"Eh?"

"You did protect me, you damn brat. If not for your help I would have died back in the forest. Even with that other Servant, if you hadn't actually keep his attention, we would have all been dead. And to top all of that, we've got the Grail Shard with us. I just had to shout at you because you're an idiot."

"...gh... _hic_..." This emotion was becoming both clearer in Rider's heart. The doubt he had held, his traumatic experience and the tormenting powerlessness during the fight with lancer of White, did Michael feel all of that too through Rider? All these negative emotions and the throbbing pain of his past experience were all swept away by this new feeling rising up in his chest.

"Phaeton."

Michael called Rider by his true name, causing the Servant to turn around and to look at his Master in confusion. When Rider did so, his vision of his Master was distirted by the tears gathering in his eyes. Even so, he could perfectly see Michael's warm smile welcoming him.

"You did great. Good job."

"Gh... _hic_...you damn old geezer...! I...ghuuuuuu...!"

When was it, the last time someone had congratulated him for his achievement? The answer was never. The Heroic Spirit Phaeton wasn't a being that accomplished great feat and was admired by all. He was synonymous with foolishness and failure, someone who caused great destruction because of his hubris. But the truth was, it was an emotion much simpler that led him to drive the Chariot of the Sun, even though there was no way he could have accomplished that.

' _You did great_ ', only three words, but they were contradictory with what Rider's nature was. To this young man who only ever wanted somebody to felicitate him for something he achieved all by himself... ' _Good job_ ', only two words but which caused a soothing emotion to flow through Rider's eyes without showing any sign of stopping...

For some reason, Rider couldn't feel Lancer's gaze on his neck like he did before. As Michael said, Rider did lead him pretty far away before teleporting back, so this probably meant that the unknown Servant had given up on him. They had won this round.

Yes, he had done it...

Leanne had been resting in one of the houses that hadn't completely crumbled down from the fight between Lancer and Berserker. The latter was watching over in spirit form because he had spent a lot of prana during the battle, so Michael wasn't worried about leaving her for a moment. She probably had had a lot of turmoil on her side, so she had fallen asleep almost as soon as she had found a bed to lay on.

By the time Michael and Rider came back, she had woken up although she still felt drowsy. Dark circles were adorning her puffy eyes, and it had actually not even been half an hour that Rider had taken Lancer on. Even so she put on a smile which, although feeble, didn't look like a fake smile put up to reassure them.

"A-are you...alright?" Rider asked timidly when he entered the desolated room with a shattered window.

He had taken care to wipe his tears before coming to get her, it was already embarrassing enough to have cried in front of Michael so he decided to hold his head high before her. That was a failure too by the way. After all, Rider and Michael had told each other they would keep her away from the fighting, but they couldn't stop Lancer fo White from almost killing her and Berserker. So in that situation, there was no way he could parade in front of her even if she didn't know about it.

"Yes!" To those worries showing clearly in his expression, Leanne replied with a smile. "Thank you very much, Rider. You really saved us, Berserker and I. So, Berserker, say thank you as well!"

Berserker must have obeyed Leanne's order this Rider heard a heavy bear-like grunt coming from the empty air, though it sounded more like he was grumpy. Oh wait, of course he were, he's Berserker.

Well, anyway Rider felt a twinge of relief, and of gratitude. Gratitude to the two persons who had been the first to recognize him. He had to struggle not to burst into tears again.

"Rider, Mrs. Stormbird." Michael called for them from outside the room. "I know we've just had a hard day, but since we don't know what our opponents are up to I'd rather we move right now."

"Y-yes." "Yes, old geezer."

For the trip back they'd have to use Rider's chariot for safety measure. In fact, that was the reason why he was sent here in the first place, to bring it back as fast as possible.

Once they got outside, Rider threw his red fabric in the air again and the golden chariot came down for the second time in the day.

"Damn, there are still only two horses, huh?" Rider complained when he noticed that fact.

"Will it be a proble for the trip?"

"Ah, no, probably not. It's not like I can go at full speed anyway if I have two humans on board. On the other hand..."

Rider focused and snapped his fingers (because it was cool). As soon as he did, the chariot changed size and became large enough for three or four people to fit in it and still have some space, since the trip would be a bit long.

"Okay, everyone get onboard! And please don't fall off. The last thing I need is to make an emergency manoeuvre."

* * *

 _ *** Umineko – Witch in gold (cembalo)**_

However, what Rider and Michael didn't know was that Lancer of White had absolutely not given up on his hunt. As soon as Rider was teleported away by a Command Seal, he had located him through his Mighty Hunter skill to find out he had gone back to the ruins of Harogd. So of course, he immediatly proceeded to catch up to him with his unparalleled speed.

It should have been a matter of minute. And yet, Lancer never reached Harogd, much less Rider of Red. But why was that?

Lancer himself didn't notice anything. From his point of view, probably nothing was out of the ordinary. But from further away, it looked almost as if Lancer of White was frozen in time. It wouldn't be completely accurate though as he clearly was moving, only too slwly for it to be significant.

Even so, it was also because he was too engrossed in his hunt that he didn't notice; didn't notice this strange voice whispering relentlessly from the empty air.

He wasn't the only one caught in this strange trap: a man, sitting atop one of the crumbling remains of what had been a brick house with his elbows resting on his laps and his chin on his joined hands, was also hearing the incessant adn unintelligible voice, although he at least had taken notice of it.

This man, Savrance Arco, was Lancer of White's Master and a close friend of Ivan Pedilefey. His appearance was just as singular as his Servant's: at least seven feet tall, he also seemed a giant to the common human though in a different way than Lancer. Thsi feeling was further enhanced by the get up he was wearing, a large, well sculpted golden armor that made his large frame look even more menacing. Beneath the moonlight however, the reflections on his armor were closer to silver than gold, mirroring his feelings and matching his expression. Indeed, although his appearance could be called intimidating, his face bore much gentler features and seemed somewhat melancholic. The spark of intelligence in his eyes coupled with the dignity in his expression gave an overall feeling of nobility.

And yet, one would be wrong to assume him to be as gentle and honorable as his look could lead to believe, and his was a terrible existance known as a Dead Apostle, a human turned into a blood-thirsty vampire.

"...What business do you have with me, son of man?" A deep voice rose from within this terrible being, adressing to the shadow that was now standing behind him. His long, green hair floated in the wind as he turned his head around. "Surely you aren't so foolish that you would thing I am harmless. If so, then this knight will be obliged to prove the contrary."

"..."

The shadow in questing was Assassin of Black, Alexander Lendric's Servant, who had been ordened to approach Savrance stealthily. However, his Master had also specified not to kill or attack him. For the Servant of Killing? It certainly was a strange thought, but his Master's order were more important than his own life. That was why, despite the fact that he could feel Savrance was far beyond the strength of a normal human, he had sneaked behind him and held the talking device in front of him.

" _Hey there, big guy._ "

For a second, Savrance did not react. Assasin wondered for an instant if he would attack, but unlike his words from earlier indicated, the vampire Savrance Arco didn't emitt any killing intent, or even hostility for that matter. After a good half a minute without speaking, Savrance opened his mouth again.

"Impudent man, I shall repeat myself: what business do you have with me?"

" _Don't worry, I'm not here to attack you or anything so tasteless._ "

"Hmph. If that is so, then would you be so kind as to explain what this is about?" He asked as he pointed at his own ear, thus designating the voice filling his head.

" _I'm telling you you don't have to worry. It's completely harmless. Just think of it as a way to allow a more...comfortable discussion._ " Although Alexander's mocking tone didn't make it sound like it was alright.

He didn't lie though: the bewitching voice resounding in the desolated streets is actually Caster of Black's Noble Phantasm, **One Thousand and One Nights: Until You Love me, I'll Survive**. This Noble Phantasm was the crystallization of Caster's talent as a storyteller, a power contained in her voice and which affected all who heard it. It couldn't cause any direct harm to the listener; after all, a storyteller who killed their public with their story was either the worst raconteur or the best. However, the same couldn't be said for the listener's senses and their mental state as it was an enchantement through the voice. To put it simply, Caster could freely manipulate the heeder's sense of time and stretch it. If she wanted to, a minute could become an hour and an hour a minute, as long as the target could hear her voice. It was the fearsome ability to captivate her audience with her words to the point they could forget everything else.

Even if Savrance could understand her voice was something beyond human, he hadn't noticed at all that the moon was moving faster in the sky, since after all those bewitched by a story couldn't feel time go by.

The same went for Lancer of White: the Servant was far away from his Master, and thus from Caster as well. However, the criteria to fall under Caster's spell is only to hear her voice, wether it is directly or through, say, a phone of a walkee-talkee. A recording was no good however, for some reason.

Thanks to this Noble Phantasm, Alexander, Assassin of Black, Savrance and Lancer of White were literally all living at a much slower pace than the Masters of Red and their Servants. That way, Alexander could stop Lancer from pursuing Rider of Red and give time to the latter to escape far away.

It wasn't out of kindness or because of an alliance to face a common enemy. It was just a trick to get Lancer off their back,a nd maybe get rid of Rider and Berserker. The way things were going, Lancer would just slaughter both Rider and Berserker along with their Masters. However, once he was done with that, what would he do? Considering the spearman's obssessive nature Alexander had noticed, there was little chance he would simply take the Grail Shard and leave. So the only answer was that he would come to kill Alexander and Loïa Beddway next. He couldn't have that, so he had to find a way to keep Lancer away long enough for them to fall back as well.

That's when Caster comes into play. The trick was simple: to stop Lancer in his track with **One Thousand and One Nights** by modifying his sense of time, and consequently giving enough time to the Red Faction to move away from their current location. But once the enchantment was lifted and Alexander had withdrawn with what little was left of his automata platoon, the Lancer who could locate his preys from far away, Lancer who wouldn't let a prey escape him no matter what, who would he go after...? And while he will be busy killing the Servants of Red, Alexander and his crew will have vanished from Danemark.

But before that, there was something Alexander wanted to check by himself.

" _I said I wasn't here to harm you; if that was my intention, I wouldn't have bothered to speak to you -you'd be dead already._ "

"Oh?" Savrance stood up, towering above Assassin of Black, and turned around. His eyes had become sharper and Assassin could finally feel some hostility coming from him. "It cannot be helped if you need to learn from your mistake." He added as he rested his hand on the knob of the sword hanging at his side. "If that is what you wish, then have at thee."

" _None of that, I said~! Seriously, I just want to ask you a little question. May I?_ "For the second time, Savrance didn't show any sign of answering, so Alexander took it as a ' _yes_ '. And, suddenly, he dropped the friendly tone he had held on all this time, instead sounding like he had murderous intent. " _Who the fuck are you?_ "

"..."

" _You're definitly not in my Faction -I'm not a person you can fool so easily. And considering how that other Servant attacked the Red Faction, I can tell you're not one of them either. You also cannot be a stray Master who works alone: I've made sure that both we and the Mage's Association had seven Masters. So my question is, where the hell do you come from?_ "

"..."

Savrance stubbornly kept silence. However, it wasn't an actual answer Alexander was expecting, just the confirmation of his guess. And Savrance's silence was exactly that confirmation.

A small laugh escaped Alexander's lips.

" _So there really_ is _a third Faction in this Holy Grail War_."

"Calling us a faction might be too much of a stretch." Finally the vampire opened his mouth. "But since you figured that out by yourself, I guess presentations are demanded. Greetings, I am Savrance Arco, Lancer of White's Master."

" _The White Faction...I see. That's an interesting , now that I have my answer, I'll leave you alone Savrance Arco. Assassin, do as I told you._ "

"Yes, my lord." The shadowy figure replied readily as the transmission was cut.

 _ *** Stop music**_

Assassin tossed the communication device aside, as if saying it had lost all its worth. Savrance didn't take his eye off the Servant of Assassination as it seemed he was about to leave.

As soon as he thought that, Assassin's body vanished...to attack him!

Indeed the shadow had dashed in Savrance's direction and sidestepped him to arrive behind his back. However, Savrance's earlier claim that he could take on Assassin hadn't been boasting from his part. As a Servant, Assassin was beyond the realm of humans -but so was Savrance.

Immediatly when Assassin appeared behind him, his hand went to his sword's handle, and he spinned around while delivering an attack faster than a bullet. Assassin saw the attack coming and lept back, but couldn't avoid it completely as the sword's tip left a slash across his shoulder.

Savrance waited for the next attack, but when Assassin landed on the floor, he actually went into spiritual form and his presence disappeared altogether.

He was gone.

"To attack me yet not putting up a fight. What was that all about?" Savrance muttered to himself. But then, he noticed something that had completely escaped his awareness until now: the sun was rising. "Dawn already...?"

He also felt something far away, the bloodlust of a hunter who probably made the same observation as him. Through the link between them, Savrance could feel the wrath and killing intent of his Servant, who suddenly moved at a terrific speed, his presence disappearing from the destroyed landscape.

"Lancer..."

* * *

 _ *** Higanbana – The Moon Draped Over Pure Darkness**_

On Rider & co's side, the chariot was still soaring through the sky of Danemark. When it happened they had almost left the country for the ocean. The sun had already starting to rise, and this accursed night was coming to an end with the colors of the morning, or so they thought.

It was sudden, like a frozen needle stabbing his back in the dead of summer. Rider felt the sensation spread from the top of his head to his feet in the span of a second, less a chill than a cold sweat. That reaction was because, he could suddenly feel them again: the predator's eyes on his neck. This blood lust, which he now knew well, reappeared hundreds of kilometers away from them, in Harogd.

With the way his body jerked, Michael easily noticed that something was wrong.

"Rider...! What's the matter! Hey!"

But he couldn't feel what Rider felt. That is, that Lancer of White was moving fast to catch up to them, but not so fast they couldn't rally the sea before he could do so...

... _but something else was heading their way much, much faster than that_.

Rider didn't have the time to be frozen in shock or to hesitate: he gripped the reins firmly and shouted to the rest of the passengers.

"Everyone, hold onto something and fast!"

He hoped everyone listened to him, because there was no time left. Even without turning around, he knew what was about to hit them: a giant black spear.

(But this number...how many are there!?)

It wasn't just one, but at least a dozen spears which were raining on them! With all of Rider's past experiences with this chariot and the real one, he seriously hated having to do anything complicated, but he didn't have the time to whine either.

"An emergency manoeuvre it is!"

Up until now the golden chariot had been flying in a straight line, but now it was dancing in a way that couldn't be called elegant, like a frightened animal striving for survival.

And then came the deadly rain. The black spears poured on them with enough momentum to crush them on impact. In the middle of this, Rider did a rotation movement with his chariot in order to block most of them with the side of his chariot. This worked to some extent, and the rest of the spears fell toward the ground bellow without ever reaching them.

Even if the number of spears was staggering, the assault was so fast it felt instantaneous. At any rate...

(Take that, asshole!) Rider was rejoicing his personal victory against the rain of spears.

"Is everyone alright!" Once he was done exulting, he made a roll call with the hope that he hadn't been rejoicing too early.

"I'm fine!"

He was relieved when he heard Michael's voice. When he looked back,it seemed the worse that happened to his Master was motion sickness due to the sudden movement.

"What about you, Leanne?!"

Silence.

"Leanne?"

Rider turned around again, and saw that Michael wasn't bothered with motion sickness anymore. He was looking much paler now. He was turning his back to Rider as he was staring at Leanne, who had been standing at the back of the chariot.

"...Rider, we need to land somewhere and fast!"

"W-what! What happened!"

"Just land! I can't focus with this damn chariot shaking in every direction! And if I can't focus I can't heal her!"

Rider's heart missed a beat. He _did_ rejoice too early.

"What do you mean?! What happened to Leanne?!"

"She wasn't hit directly but one of the projectiles ripped off part of her right ribs and she fell unconscious! I have to heal her fast or she will bleed to her death!"

Rider understood the emergency of the situation. He had to land so Michael could properly use his healing magecraft on her, and snappy. However, there was a little voice at the back of his head, whispering that if they stopped Lancer would catch up eventually.

"C-can't you help her while we're flying?!"

"I'm already doing the best I can right now so do me a favor and stop this chariot!"

If Lancer caught up with them, wouldn't they be slaughtered, siply and ruthlessly?

(That would be bad. None of of us can stand up to him, none of us can-!) Rider bit his lips in anger. (Get a hold of yourself, moron!)

At any rate, Rider obeyed his Master and begun his descent toward the ground, toward an empty plain that would allow Michael to heal Leanne without being hindered. After they had landed, Rider clenched his fists to give him some courage and confidence, and he spoke to Michael who was already focused on his patient.

"Michael, if we stay here that other Servant will catch up any moment now."

"We'll...find a way somehow..." Michael realized how dangerous this situation was, and how they had now way to fight against Lancer.

"We'll need a decoy to buy some time."

"...! Rider, you...!"

"He's after me. The reason he can spot us is because he has his eyes on me." He didn't waver. He stared back at Michael not with confidence, but determination. "I will be that decoy."

* * *

 _ *** Higanabana – Live Strong, as the Flowers Bloom**_

Rider had some time before Lancer could reach him. Just as he said to Michael, Lancer was looking for him. The spearman was probably unsatisfied with letting his prey escape at the last moment, and Rider could feel him approaching. The arena he had chosen more this fight was a forest at least far away enough that the fight wouldn't reach his Master.

Well, not that he planned for the fight to be that large scale or to even last that long. It had to be as fast as possible since Michael was already using his prana for Leanne's recovery. Not that it could last long anyway; either Rider pulled through, or he would die at Lancer's hands.

He wasn't going to use his chariot in this fight. Not only would it be hard to handle in such a narrow spacen but he had already ascertained its usefullness during the previous clash. It was 'none'. In fact, it was the same for his normal attacks. He couldn't seem to penetrate Lancer's skin in any way. He had a theory about that, but it was more a guess than anything. Aside from his chariot and his sword, he still had his Pankration, bt he doubted it would be any good against an opponent so much faster and stronger than him. In the end, he still had one trick up his sleeve, but he had no confidence it would work.

"It doesnt matter in the end." It was do or die.

Lancer was almost there.

Rider thought back on this night. It had been a long and arduous night; he had to face his fears, and defeated most of them. He cried too. Michael had a talent to hit where it hurt, but Rider was thankful for that. Leanne also had a hard time, but she held on. Berserker did a good job in protecting her at the risk of his life. For a Berserker that big fellow seemed strangely reasonnable in a way.

" _Sigh_. It's no good to reminisce before a fight. Isn't it?" He spoke to the black hunter who was now standing no more than fifty meters in front of him, his spear in hand and a frenzied smile acrossed his face. "Lancer of Black."

"A fool says foolish things! I am not the Lancer of Black!"

"Wait, you're not?" Ridr had kinda assumed he was, since he didn't see him slaughter Alexander's troops. "Then who are you? I'm the Rider of Red by the way." Rider was acting strangely concilient, because of the feeling he might not get out of this alive.

"I have no need for a prey's name! But if you wish to know, I am the the Lancer of White."

"White..."

This affirmation had consequences, but Rider didn't care about that right now. He stood up to face Lancer fo White. With the latter's size, it felt like he was still sitting. That didn't instill any more fear into him though. He drew his sword, holding it in one hand while the other hand formed a fist pressed against his chest.

 _ *** Stop music**_

"I'm ready. Let's make this fast, Lancer."

"As you wish, little prey."

The two Servants stood in front of each other, ready for this fight of legend that would remain in obscurity. One was a pitiful boy who could never become a hero in his lifetime; the identity of the other was unknown, but he was no doubt a great warrior who had fought many times in his life.

A drop on sweat ran down Rider's cheek.

This Western standoff didn't last long however, and the first to move forward with the intention to kill was Lancer.

"Die, you pitiful prey!"

At the same time the blade of his dark weapon was closing on Rider, a shout escaped the latter, not a cry of fright but a howl of pride.

"I am...!"

The clash of metal against metal. A blinding light illuminated both fighters as their weapons collided. But it wasn't the clash itself nor the sparks that flew off the point of impact; stronger than the light of morning. The glow came...from Rider's chest.

 _ *** Higurashi – You destructive**_

"What!?" The cry of surprise came from Lancer's mouth.

Rider, who should have been weaker and slower than Lancer, Rider would have died earlier if not for Michael's help. That same Rider had flawlessly parried the black spear and pushed it back.

"I am Phaeton, son of Helios! I am the son of the Sun, and my brightness shall be no lesser that his!"

The Servant of the Mount claimed proudly, and the glow emitted by his chest spread across his whole body. The color of his skin changed into golden and his eyes turned from flame red to the same golden shade, shining with more strength than the rest of his body. The blade of his swords changed as well, from a blade of steel to a blade of light.

"Do not underestimate me, Lancer! I didn't come here without a plan!"

It was Rider's turn. He swung his shining sword into a magnificent arc to try and slash Lancer's belly. The spearman stepped back quickly to avoid the blade of light, but Rider's movement were swifter compared to before, and the latter still managed to leave a blood red line across the charcoal black skin.

It worked. The sword successfully wounded Lancer without meeting any resistance. Rider's theory was right.

"I guessed as much from our previous encounter. Lancer, your skin is an Anti-Humanity armor Noble Phantasm! My chariot couldn't hurt you at all because it was the manifestation of my hubris, of hubris that belongs to humanity and humanity only! But because I have a certain rank of Divinity, my own sword did slightly more damage. I don't know what kind of Noble Phantasm it is exactly, but it only protects you from the attack of humans, while attacks from the divine are especially effective!"

"How..." Lancer's in this very moment was priceless to Rider. It was the expression of someone who was taken off guard, who wasn't going to overthrow his hope the next moment. "But you aren't...why can you hurt me now..! Don't tell me you...!

That was right.

Phaeton, the boy who went on a journey to find his father Helios. But like arrogant humans, he thought he could do the impossible and tried to ride the Chariot of the Sun, only to destroy the world with it and to be killed by Zeus. However, an interesting fact was, Phaeton wasn't human to begin with. The hero Phaeton was born from a God and an Oceanid, and as such didn't have one drop of human blood in his veins. It was Zeus who took his immortality from him to be bale to kill him, but Phaeton was originally on the same level as a Divine Spirit.

 **Sun God Core** , that was the skill which caused this sudden power up. It was a skill Rider never wanted to use up until now, which he couldn't dare to use. Because thsi was the crystalization of what he got at the end of his journey: the confirmation that his father was Helios, that he could proudmy call himself a son of the sun. The most famous part of Phaeton's legend was him bruning the world with the sun, but the trip he had to undertake to find his father, the determination of steel he showed to reach his destination, all of that had disappeared from the legends of men.

That was the reward for his restlessness.

In theory, this skill brought him closer to the state of Divine Spirit, raising all his stats one rank and modifying his very nature. On practice though, it was a lot like Mad Enhancement: he consumed a lot of prana inexchange for a power up. That's why he had to make this fast.

"I see. You're another offspring of the gods! Fine, what does it change? I'll kill you, I'll hunt you like a dog and kill you kill you kill you kill you kill you killyoukillyoukillyou!"

"I told you I didn't come here without a plan." Rider replied to the crazy spearman. Then, he breathed in before screamin: "Now, Berserker!"

When he did, a beastly howl replied from the other end of the forest. It was Berserker, who was definitly too sane for a Berserker. The mad Servant had spent too much prana to be able to fight against Lancer of White, but he still had a role to play: set everything on fire. Before Rider went off to face Lancer, Leanne had woken up and told him Berserker had a Noble Phantasm that could set an area on fire. That was perfect for Rider.

Numerous flames in the shape of a small animal moved through the forest at high speed, exploding into a burst of fire upon contact with the nature. Before Rider could blink, the whole scenery around them was painted over in red and orange.

He didn't wait for Lancer to wake up from his stupor, and rushed forward with his blade in hand.

"Here I come, Lancer!"

"You little...! I'll kill yoooooooouuuuuuuu!"

Two Servant clashed in the middle of a hellish fire. One was a boy who had conquered his fears and overcome his shame. The other was a hunter who got caught at his own game and fell into a trap. The blows exchanged between the two were so fast it looked like they were growing more arms, and the sheer power of it was creating shockwaves around them.

And the one who had the upper hand was Rider. With Sun God Core alone, Lancer would definitely have won. He had more battle experience and was just that fearsome an opponent. But the flames dancing around them didn't spare them. They resulted from a Noble Phantasm, but they were ultimately flames -meaning they could bypass Lancer's armor skin and burn his body. Lancer's arms, legs and his back were already being eaten away by the flmaes. But Rider was the son of a sun deity and had received an oilment that would protect him from even the flames of the Sun.

The awe-inspiring Lancer of White, which had been a nightmare just hours ago, was being pushed back, the wounds from Rider's swords multiplying on his burning body.

"How does it feel to have fallen into my trap, Lancer? Who do you think is the prey now?" Rider taunted his enemy, not as much to destabilize him than to make up for all the fear he had felt.

Lancer was seathing with rage, so much that he was less like a predator and more like a demon. He was still so fast and so strong Rider had to be careful, but he was weakened by the fire scorching his body.

But suddenly, Lancer jumped backward, right into the flames. Then, a strong wind blew, clearing away the fire around where he had lept. There was no spear anymore in Lancer's hand. Instead, the giant Servant was holding what seemed to be a great, pitch balck lightning bolt which was still growing in size and creating a strom around him.

"His Noble Phantasm...?! Damn, i can't take that head on!"

Rider could feel this spear was made to slay Divine Spirits. He had been careful not to take damage from it, but this one attack would kill him if it landed on him.

That he couldn't allow. He would come back alive as he promised to Michael. It was scary enough to see his Master crack his knuckles while saying ' _Haha, I see you haven't had enough_ ', and it was hard to convince him. But he was definitely coming back alive!

As if in reaction to his thoughts (or the sudden concentration of mana), something pounded on Lancer with the strength and speed of a comet.

It was Berserker of Red.

"Berserker...!"

"The servant of the Lord?! Why you...!"

The stampeding Servant hit Lancer's side, but his human fists failed to inflict any damage on him. Still, Lancer winced, and it wasll all the distraction Rider needed.

Charging forward, Rider held his blade with two hands. Lancer had been distracted by Berserker's sudden arrival, which allowed Rider to close on him instantly. The Servant of the Mount jumped high enough that his head was on the same level as Lancer's, and held his word high.

"I won't leeeeet yoooouuuu!"

He screamed, and he brought down the blade of light on Lancer's shoulder. The arm which was holding Lancer's Noble Phantasm was cleanly sliced off and disappeared amidst the flame. The lightning bolt-like Noble Phantasm vanished as well after being separated from its owner.

Rider was only one step away from the one-armed Lancer of White, who disarmed and roaring in pain.

"This is the end, Lanc-whoa!"

"I won't go down so easily, you damn worm, you worthless prey, you!"

Rider was about to give the finishing blow, yet at this moment a black mist appeared and gathered around Lancer's other arm, forming a claw of balck metal around his hand with which he sent Rider flying in the air. It didn't stop here, and the hunter assaulted Rider furiously and repeatedly like a cornered beast. Berserker couldn't help im any more than that, and had already gone back into spirit form.

The wound caused by the claws were more painful than anything Rider ever experienced. But it was all the more reason why he had to keep up the fight.

"I'm not a prey anymore! I'm Phaeton! I'm not a hero, but that doesn't mean I have to bow down to you!"

Lancer's mad screams were nothing a human or a beast could produce at this point. Rider was seriously satrting to wonder if he wasn't actually a Berserker or something. And to add to Lancer's shame and fury, a voice resounded in his head, the voice of his Master Savrance Arco.

 _Lancer, fall back._

 _What...are you sayiiiiing!?_

 _He has bested you his time around, accept that fact. You've already wasted a lot of magical energy, there's only so much I can drain from the ley lines._

 _Why would I retreat in front of this piece of crap, of this little..._

 _Unless you want me to use yet another Command Seal. Which one would hurt your pride more?_

"Kh...RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! I will kill you next time, in the most humiliating way possible!"

With a last howl of hate, frustration and anger, Lancer reluctantly obeyed his Master's order and turned into spiritual form, before vanishing from the forest and the region altogether. To Rider, who thought this roar meant even more frenzied attacks, this came as a surprise. For a moment, he didn't understood what had happened and he just stood there dumbfounded. But little by little, he understood what that meant.

"I...won."

It was Phaeton's first victory. He was panting heavily, had had to face a recent trauma and felt overall like shit, but all this was swept away by the surging feeling of victory.

"I woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooon now I've gotta get out here and fast."

Fire wouldn't harm him, but falling trees didn't exactly feel good. Both in spiritual forms, Rider and Berserker returned to their Master, victorious.

* * *

The expression on Michael's face was undescribable, and Rider didn't know whether he was happy or if he was going to hit him again. Nevermind that, Rider smile brightly and raised his fist in sign of victory.

"I did it, old geezer!"

"You damn braaaat!"

"Ouch! You did hit me! What did I do wrong this time!?"

"You do everything wrong!"

"Wh- what are you saying, old geezer!"

"Stop calling me an old geezer, you brat!"

"Stop calling me a brat, old geezer!"

Both laughed. They were happy they could still have stupid squabbles like these. Leanne was looking at them from the sidelines, exhausted but smiling with them over what really felt like a victory for once.

"Ah, by the way, I'm not taking you back on my chariot." Rider declared as he went back into spirit form.

"Wha..."

 _I've wasted too much prana. Sucks for you._

"R-Rider! Are you saying we're supposed to get back on feet when we don't even know where we are?!"

 _I dunno._

"Riiiiiideeeeeeerrr!"

 _Oh right, I forgot to say but that Lancer guy belonged to a third faction or something like that._

"Wh- you drop bombshells like that?! Wait, that means Leo might clash with them! I've got to call him!...Ah, shit, there's no signal here."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _And with this chapter, the Danemark Arc comes to a close! For some reason, this chapter became centered around Rider when it wasn't supposed to, so I hope it didn't feel like it came out of nowhere. Especially the part where Michael scold Rider._

 _I recently begun to write daily as opposed to before, which means i'll probably publish chapters more often. Dunno how often though._

 _Again, thanks for reading this chapter. Don't hesitate to comment, review or ask a question!_

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	16. Interlude

**Interlude**

* * *

 _ *** Umineko – Future**_

Maria wondered why that memory was resurfacing in this very moment, when she needed to focus on her actions. Maybe that _was_ because she was in a situation of crisis just like back then, but even then she felt there was another reason to it. Maria Argas and Silvelune Arbonnaux were friends as far as her memory could go -which was normal in a way, since she mostly remembers her life starting from the day they met more than ten years ago.

Before that was another time which she didn't remember at all: the time when she lived with her father and her mother. All she could recall from those years were fragments of images and sounds, and some smells too; as much as anyone else. She could remember she didn't have much back then, and even her memories from her parents were blurry at best. It was a family of magi, so it wouldn't come as a surprise to learn there wasn't much warmth. Even so, family was family. There was no way a child wouldn't think of their parents as important when they're the only support they have.

That was why even she had felt sad when her parents died.

The life of magus is a life spent walking alongside death until it eventually took you away. Thus, their departure was fast, sudden and without any farewell. Thinking back, she had felt more confusion than mourning that day. Real life matters were always complicated for a six-years-old little girl; without any warning, she was suddenly an orphan, alone.

There were no relatives to take of her, or at least she didn't think the were. Back then it wasn't the most important stuff to ask about to her. So, she should have been put in an orphanage and stayed alone for a while. That didn't happen though: a few days later, someone she didn't know came to see her saying he was a friend of her father's and that he would be the one taking care of her from now on.

That was, obviously, Michael Argas.

Thus, Maria had to move to Michael's house in France, away from her homeland and from everything she had ever knew. Humans are creature who excel in adapting to a new environment, yet even a year later she still felt lost and confused, and couldn't even find her way home.

That was how, crying and sniffing, she stumbled upon the gate of a large mansion in the middle of a street. She didn't know why she was attracted at this one place in particualr, or why she ringed at the gate to ask for directions when she could have asked them from a passerby. Thinking back, it was surely because she could feel the Bounded Field surrounding the property; she had always be sensible to the use of magecraft, so this mansion, the Arbonnaux mansion must have felt like a fated place to the young Maria.

When a maid came to open the door, she was visibly shocked to find a little girl here, not that Maria understood why at the time. They did give her the incations she wanted, but all she heard were a bunch of unfamiliar street names which had to meaning to her, and if she recalled right it made her crying intensify. The servant must not have known what to do, because she had her come inside the mansion and wait for them to contact her father. Maria didn't realize at the time this was the first time an event of the sort ever happened at the Arbonnaux mansion.

As a result, they didn't exactly look after her and she was free to look around the estate at her leisure without having behind her back. If you let a child do whatever they want, they won't even try to resist the temptation. Still in tears, she wandered aroun the mansion's hallways, not knowing what she was looking for. She eventually got lost though. That must have given the servants even more work...

But if not for that, she would have never stumbled across that one double door with a large sign on it. She couldn't read a single word of French at the time aside from 'bonjour', so she had no idea it was saying 'Do not disturb'. Though even if she did understand it probably would have only fueled her curiosity. She can still remember the weight of the door that first time, opening on a ridiculously big...library. Shelves after shelves filled with books to the brim and a few chairs to sit down, it looked like a normal library if one put aside its size. The room was filled with the natural lighting of the sunlight filtering through the large bay window. It sure didn't feel like a bibliotheca reserved to one person.

And in the middle of this scenery, reading a large old-looking book on a wheelchair, was the master of the estate and Maria's future best friend. Upon the newcomer's arrival, Silvelune Arbonnaux lifted her eyes from the book she was reading and looked at Maria with a puzzled expression.

"..."

"... _sniff_..."

At least twenty seconds elapsed while absolutely nothing happened: Silvelune just stared at the bawling Maria without wincing as if she had stopped functioning, while Maria stared back no knowing what to do or what to say. Then Silve suddenly jolted as of she had stuck her fingers in a power outlet, and she looked at Maria for a second with an expression of utter terror before turning her back to her and her attention to the book. Another ten seconds went by, and Maria didn't feel comfortable being ignored like that. Little did she know that Silve couldn't possibly ignore her back then.

" _Sniff_...H-hello...?"

"Hii!" Silvelune's body jerked suddenly in the same way as before, and she turned her head around while trembling almost comically. She tried to put on a cold, severe expression but her social awkwardness back then was nothing to sneeze at. She looked like she was facing a starving wolf. "W-what do you want, commoner?!"

" _Sniff_...I'm Maria, not Commoner... _sniff_..."

"W-whatever, you're being noisy! State the reason of y-your presence and then b-begone!"

"Huh?"

"What do you want, geez!"

"I... _sniff_...I'm lost..."

"I heard from the servants already! You have no reason to come b-bothering me if all you want in indications, do y-you?!"

"No, not that...uheeee..." Her eyes starting to tear up again.

"Wha...?"

"The mansion! I'm lost in the mansion! It's too big! Uwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" And she cried again. She really was a crybaby back then, wasn't she?

This intense bawling only served to reinforce the expression of terror plastered on Silve's face.

"Wh-what...no...stop c-crying...I...u-uwaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

And now it was Silvelune who was crying. That was very uncharacteristic of her, even for the time. The servants had another surprise that day. At any rate, this bizarre fateful encounter sealed their friendship, or rather sealed Maria's determination to come back at the Arbonnaux mansion to peste- hrm, to visit Silvelune.

"Ah, seriously, how did it lead to _this_ situation!"

Back in the present, Maria was walking through the maze-like hallways of the Black Faction's headquarters with the quietest footsteps. It wasn't exactly important since she never came across anyone other than herself. Most of the underground secret base was empty for some reason. Maria could guess the reason though. The sleep spell Silvelune had put on her was efficient but it lost its effect the more it was used on her. That way she was able to catch some fragments of conversations and informations. She heard about the Holy Grail War, about the Servants and more importantly about the fact that her father and her cousin were taking part in it.

She had thought it was weird for dad to suddenly offer to spend some time in England with Leo, but she didn't question it either. Regardless of the reason, she was happy to see her cousin that was like a little brother to her. Turned out Michael did keep a secret from her; that would give her a reason to be mad at him once she gets out of this labyrinthine underground complexe.

That was what she thought, but she heard a powerful growl resounding through the tunnels, a growl she knew how to well for hearing it daily. That was 'Berserker of Black', the Servant of Silve.

"Dammit, just my luck!"

There was no hidding place in these hallways, so the best thing to do was run, probably. And that was what Maria did, except she didn't know about two things. First, that Servants could turn into spirit form and thus could not being seen by her, and second that a Servant was much faster than her.

That's how, without any warning, a large arm caught her leg and lifted her upside-down.

"Kya! Hey you, did nobody ever teach you how to kidnap someone?! Stop holding me like that-!"

Angrily, she stared at Berserker of Black defiantly as if her eyes could kill. For someone to act that way with a Servant, it requiered a lot of courage, though in this case it was more recklessness; or maybe it was due to the fact that she knew he wouldn't harm her directly. The situation was seriously bad however: if this escape attempt failed there was little chance for an occasion to show up ever again. But there was nothing Maria could do; she could feel how extraordinary a being a Servant was just with Berserker's presence.

Actually, she noticed the Servant of Black's appearance didn't match her short memories of it. When she was kidnapped he clearly had a human appearance, but what she saw was a giant of a man with a skin the same color than silver as though he had taken a bath of mercurium. His presence was different as well: there was something more elegant, more mystic than the man concumed by rage she had met on the boat.

But she didn't have the time to ponder about this change because Berserker started to walk back in direction of the library so fast Maria thought that her leg would separate from the rest of her body for a moment. Yep, there was definitely gonna be a ' _pop!_ ' sound at any moment. Fortunately, nothing of the sort happened and she was once again inside the enormous library.

Silvelune was waiting for her with an ominous smile, a book on her laps. As Berserker dropped her on the ground, Maria recognized the cover of the book -it was the same as that day. It really was exactly like back then: she got lost and ended up in this place, for better or for worse, but especially for worse this time.

"My, my. Eloping are we~?" Silve was the one to begin the conversation with a comment on a jesting tone. Considering the present situation however, it was scary.

"Silve..."

"If you were awake you should have told me, I would have given you a good morning kiss~."

"Okay, no. Silvy, we already talked about that: I don't swing that way and I only see you as a friend!"

"Haha, I see even in this situation you've got your sense of humor~."

"Silvy, stop talking like that, you're scary."

No matter how you listened to it, it really sounded like an everyday friendly chatter. It was normal after all, they been together for more than ten long years. Even if the world was coming to an end that wouldn't change how they could converse freely with one another. But this wasn't a friendly chatter. The situation at hand was serious and Maria expected answers.

"I'm being serious, Silvelune. What does that kidnapping mean?"

Silvelune's gentle smile turned into a more worrying smirk, fitting her nickname of 'witch'. The nickname wasn't from Maria by the way.

"What could it mean? I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. What more could there be to it?"

"What about that Holy Grail War then?"

"..."

"From the tid-bits I was able to hear, I can more or less understand what's going on, but don't you think you owe me some explaination?"

"...Do you know what the Holy Grail War is, Maria?"

"I can guess. From that strange familiar of yours and the conversations I heard, it's some sort of ritual where you have Servants fight to the death to have a wish granted, isn't it?"

"My, my. What explaination do you want then?"

"Silve. What are you doing?"

"..."

"I don't need to know what the Holy Grail is or what Servants are to know this is a ritual that asks for a lot of prana on part of the participants."

"Full points again~! My Servant, Berserker, is the most costly in exchange for being the strongest."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about! Silvy, how can you supply so much with your body in this state! You're killing yourself by doing this!"

All trace of smile disappeared from Silvelune's expression, but her voice remained unchanged.

"Not at all. I can assure you my body is doing fine. After all, I already had a Servant before we even took the boat for England, remember? Did I seem that exhausted to you?"

That was right. Maria didn't think about that detail, but Silve was holding out alright from someone with such a weak body. Which made it all the more strange since she should be sweating and pantinga sthough she had ran a marathon.

"Silve, what did you...?"

"What's wrong? I told you, I'd answer your questions."

"Silvy, this is no laughing matter! Even if you're alright it doesn't change the fact that you're taking part in something dangerous! What if you died?! No, what if you were simply hurt!"

"What if your father or your cousin were hurt?"

"-!"

"Why aren't you worrying about them instead? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

"You're not. No matter what you say, you're still the Silvy who'd cry from talking to a stranger to me. I'm sure dad is doing his best where he is to ensure he and Leo will be alright. Can't do much except trust them. But you, Silvy...you're not making any sense! Kidnapping me, taking part in something dangerous like the Holy Grail War -you're not acting like yourself!"

"That's because I like you, Maria~!"

"Don't change of subject!"

"..." Silvelune's face was clouded by a shadow when she heard Maria's reaction. "But it has everything to do with this situation..." She muttered so low even Maria didn't hear.

"Silve, if you're being forced to participate, I-"

"What are you saying, Maria?" Silvelune interrupted her and put her trademark smirk back on while shrugging. "I _started_ the Holy Grail War."

"Wha...t did you say?"

"It wasn't even supposed to happen in the first place after all. Do you want a proof?"

As she said that, Silvelune started to take of the clothes on her upper body. When she was finally half-naked, Maria's eyes opened wide from the shock. What was this? Embedded in Silve's torso was what seemed to be a chunk of gold. Spreading around it all over Silvelune's body were golden veins pulsating with a faint glow.

"Impressive, isn't it? That a Grail Shard. A part of the Holy Grail. You could call it cheating, but as long as I'm linked to it, I'll have no problem supplying Berserker in magical energy."

"No." Maria felt tears forming in the corner of her eyes. Why hadn't she noticed it earlier? This horrible mutilation. "Silvy, what are you...your body, you're destroying it!"

"I told you, didn't I?"

Silveluen held out her hand in direction of Maria, and immediatly the latter felt a nauseous sensation, and her consciousness fading away.

"No...Silve..."

The wheelchair moved toward Maria and Silvelune caught her friend's falling body in her arms. Stroking her hair lightly, she whispered in her ear.

"I want to be with you for the rest of my life."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading!_

 _Haha, bet you didn't expect this small chapter, did you? This was originally suppoed to be part of Chapter XIV. But since the latter was already long enough, and because it wouldn't fit in the next, I decided to make it a bonus chapter -chapter 14.5 if you'd rather._

 _~Legends Storyteller._


	17. Chapter XV: Broken Doll

_A/N: Hi guys and gals, thank you in advance for reading this chapter! As per tradition, here are the musics for this chapter:_

 _ *** Umineko – The candles dance**_

 _ *** Umineko – One**_

 _ *** Higanbana – A Night Sky Filled with Petals**_

 _ *** Muv Luv Alternative – Briefing**_

 _ *** Umineko – HANE**_

 _ *** Higurashi – Iru**_

* * *

 _ *** Umineko – The candles dance**_

A white vessel sailing on the sea, far away from all land and all civilization. But it wasn't the kind of ship meant to travel from country to country: if it wasnt afloat at all times, it would entirely lose its meaning and its purpose. Its sheer size made it impossible to enter even the largest port of the world.

Rather than a ship it would have been more correct to call it a sea fortress, for the white hull of the vessel was reminiscent of a giant wall protecting the inside of the boat from all harm. In matter of size, it was as high as a ten-stories building, but it had the width of a small town. Of course, the sheer weight of the hull alone should have prevented it from staying afloat, so with everything inside of it it was a wonder how it was sinking into the sea. But it would have made no sense for it to do anything else than float correctly.

Because it was his very essence as the 'Ark' of the White Faction. No part of it seemed to have been made for it to function as a ship: the hull and the rest of the boat was made of a snow white material harder than stone, and there was no such thing as a sail or even a rudder. Even so, it wouldn't fail to fulfill its role as the Ark, because it couldn't be anything else.

It wasn't the same Ark that was spoken of in several mythologies; it was nothing more than its remnants put together quite unprofessionaly and turned into a gigantic Mystic Code.

The deck was so large that there was enough place for a moderately-sized town to fit on it. It wasn't a simple comparison though, as there really was what seemed to be a city of immaculate white stone covering the whole deck as though it had grown out of it. There was no real way to described the style of the houses, as it didn't looked like it fit any known civilization. The smallest buildings were similar in appearance to the houses built in northern Africa, and yet the tallest ones were reminicent of Southern American civilizations before they were wiped out. But this city lacked something fundamental to civilization, and which was nowhere to be seen: life. And it wasn't limited to human lives, for there wasn't a trace of an animal or a plant. The whole structure was akin to a ghost city drifting forever on the ocean.

But there _were_ people living onboard, as a matter of course. One of the buldings on the lifeless town was different than the rest. It was the highest, and it was located in the middle of the upper part of the deck, as though to allow it to gaze down on the rest of the ship. It was like a cathedral, in more than one way. It wasn't affiliated with any religion, but the divine atmosphere filling it was undoubtly that of a sacred place. It had no other lighting than the sunlight filtering through the massive windows, and the main room was filled with rows of benches meant to sit down and pray.

But pray to whom exactly? No one knew.

And sitting on one of the benches, motionless as he stared at the main stained-glass window, was the master of this floating city: Ivan Pedilefey. He wasn't praying to anyone, nor was he lost in his unreadable thoughts. He was simply, continuously staring at the multicolored light bathing the inside of the mystery shrine, as though in contemplation. But his very presence offered a contrast with the holy atmosphere of the place: his appearance could only be qualified as weird, to the point where it was obvious it was on purpose. His clothes definitely didn't go well together, but instead of looking ridiculous, it only contributed to the mysterious aura surrounding him. Worn at his feet were wooden shoes which were clearly uncomfortable to wear, and yet he wore them all the time. Finally, his waist-long hair were equally divided in two colors, one side grey like smoke and the other orange like ember shining in a fireplace.

It wasn't only his appearance: his whole being was contradictory. He had a talent, almost a curse, to find rare and lost items, those from long bygone eras. And it was in these rare artifacts that he found all his happiness. Nothing fascinated him as much as uniqueness, something which cannot be found anywhere else. And yet, he had no qualms separating himself from the treasures which landed in his hands. He wasn't a greedy man, nor was he much of a collector. He merely lived for the sake of beholding rarities, for the strange beauty he found in them.

As a matter of fact, it was he who provided all the members of the White Faction with their Catalysts, at the exception of Naraku which didn't want to use one.

Although he was promising as a magus, he prefered to live the life of an adventurer, seeking lost treasures and unique places. This way, numerous artifacts and Mystic Codes of the past became his properties, such as what had served as a base for his Ark. This strange ability of his had alarmed the Clock Tower of course, and he had become a target for Sealing Designation. It never bothered him more than that though, and all the Enforcers which came for his head stood no chance. It wasn't as much that he was confident in his abilities than the fact he had never be able to feel fear.

And it was in his quest for rarities that he stumbled upon it: the Grail Shard. He was completely ignorant of the Holy Grail War, the Servants and Masters, and of course the Holy Grail itself. But as soon as he took hold of it, someone spoke to him; not a physical person of course, he had been alone at the time.

It had come from the Grail Shard.

A voice resounded in his mind, a wicked and toneless voice. It told him of the Holy Grail, of the ritual to obtain it and of the reward for the winner. Ivan couldn't care less for the Holy Grail. It was an artifact desperately sought after for many mages, but to him who had no wish winning the Holy Grail War had no value.

But this unique opportunity to start a war which would gather so many interesting individuals, the idea of being part of this once-in-a-lifetime experience, had been more than enough to convince Ivan to begin the Sixth Holy Grail War.

He didn't know how to though, and neither did the voice. And anyway, the Grail didn't have enough magical energy to start another war at the time. It took him years, and a cooperation with Silvelune Arbonnaux to bring his plan to fruition and to make a war more impressive than all the previous ones, with threefold the number of Masters and Servants. In the meantime, he had gathered six rare individuals to be Masters at his side.

A young boy with an uncanny talent for magecraft.

A fallen knight wandering aimlessly.

A schizophrenic adolescent wishing for equality.

The holy maiden who wanted to see the world end.

A familiar which developed a personality of its own and killed its master.

A girl who shouldn't be alive.

This selection alone was enough to display Ivan's unique taste. But even if he judged people based on this criteria, it didn't mean he was a cold person. Some were friends; some were beloved students; some had gone so far in their "rarity" that he would be better off not trusting them. Even the latters wouldn't be treated any less warmly than the rest. It was to the point where people thought of him as a philantropist, which wasn't entirely wrong.

It was a shame that Ms. Arbonnaux had refused his offer, as she was herself so interesting. But she probably had her own reason to distrust Ivan. Namely, that the man was completely unpredictable in everything he did. After all he really was a person of contradictions: this man of action, who liked nothing more than being on the stage for such an occasion, had decide to stay behind and do nothing for the first stage of this Sixth Holy Grail War.

"Mr. Pedilefey! Mister, are you there?!"

Disrupting the holy silence of the cathedrale, someone pushed open the large door and entered while calling out his name. This sudden unanounced guest woke Ivan Pedilefey up from the strange trance he had been immersed into. He didn't need to check to know who it was who was looking for him, for the infantile voice could only belong to one person.

Ivan stood up and turned around to greet Chris Mantel, Archer of White's Master. The latter, when he spotted Ivan, seemed relieved and ran up to him like any normal kid would.

"Mr. Pedilefey!"

"What is the matter, Chris? You seem in a hurry. Did something happen?"

"Hm, err, i-it's nothing but..." Once they were closer, Chris started fidgeting. "I-it's been a while since Mr. Harco and Mr. Naraku and Lancer and Rider left. I-I was wondering if they're alright..." He dais as he hanged his head.

He wasn't looking at his feet out of fear or shame, but rather out of timidity. That was who Chris Mantel was, a little boy who could only care about others and not for himself. Even he realized how unusual that was, especially for someone his age; that was probably why he was always shy when voicing his concern. But Ivan wasn't the kind of person to judge that kind of behavior, on the contrary. He extended his hand and reached out for Chris' head and stroked it gently.

"I see. You must really have been worried to come and see me, aren't you?" He smiled affably. "You don't need to though. They all are really strong people in their own way. But if you want to hear the details, then both Rider and Lancer fought against the other Factions a couple nights ago." Ivan knew pretty much everything that happened thanks to his familiars, which he had ordered to follow his teammates on the battlefield

"Then they won!?" Chris asked with a visible cheerfulness filling his expression to the brim.

"Sadly not." Ivan shook his head. "They failed to get their hands on the Grail Shard. But they're all alive and in good shape."

"Oh..." Although Chris seemed to be a little disappointed, what replaced his happy expression wasn't sadness but something closer to determination or firmness. "B-but if they're alright, then it doesn't matter!"

But despite what Ivan might say, it was unknown to which extent this sincerity and kindness of Chris' was a good thing. To put it in a good way, he had the kindness of a saint, he was an admirable person. To put it in a bad way, he was too nice for his own good.

Thankfully, his guardian was the exact opposite.

"They failed...?"

Archer of White, who had stayed in spirit form up until now, materialized on one of the benches. Unlike Ivan, her mere presence in this place was magnifying it. The kaleidospic sunlight illuminating the shrine was reflecting on her golden armor, resulting in a breath-taking glow giving her already regalian appearance a divine feel. In contrast her face was devoid of any warmth and the shadow of a great anger was clouding her eyes, reminding anybody in her presence the kind of unforgiving ruler she was.

"After talking so big, they have the guts to fail us and to come back empty handed?" The bench of white stone undreneath her started to emit cracking noise as a testimony of her silent ire. "Bunch of useless fools! Even dogs know how to do a better job than this! I thought they were supposed to be great kings, but they really are failures as rulers in the end! I should have gone myself...!"

Chris flinched as these hard words resounded around the sacred site, and he looked away while shaking like a leaf. That was because he was the reason why Archer was stuck here; it was he who had been afraid to head for battle. But that fact was far beyond Archer when she had made those comments, and when she noticed the consequence of her words the Servant stood up to pat the child's head.

"Whatever. What is done is done. If they still have a shadow of their common sense, they will hang their heads like slaves; a king must know when he has done a mistake."

She said no more, indicating the matter was closed. But as soon as she did a fourth voice rose up from somewhere in the shrine, a deep male voice which sounded more like it was jesting than admonesting.

"My, how very cold of you, King of Assyria. In a battle there has to be a loser, just as much as there has to be a winner. Aren't you being a bit harsh with them?"

The owner of that voice soon made himself know as Saber of White's figure materialized next to the cathedrale's door. The Knight of the Sword was leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, smiling contentedly with one eye closed. Archer's expression, which had returned to one worthy of a marble statue, visibly darkened when she layed her eyes upon the red warrior, whether it was annoyance or disdain or a mix of the two.

"Are you trying to make a point, Saber? If you have something to say, speak your mind." She said calmly but scornfully.

"I couldn't possibly have anything to say could I?" Saber shrugged. "I am but witnessing your ruthlessness, O my king."

"Are you in any position to say anything about it? I don't remember your legend being that of a wise and competent king; that is, if I may call you a king at all."

"Don't bother: I never attached any importance to that title. For how little time I bore it and for what it's worth, I guess I'm just a warrior in the end. That's why, I'm curious what you have to reproach about their way, your highness."

"Hmph!" Archer took her eyes off the red figure and turned around as if to signify his mere sight was disgusting. "Their only but fatal mistake is to put more importance in their ego than in assuring their victory! I can guess they charged into battle without a second thought and without a plan in mind." She looked at Ivan, searching for confirmation. "What was the condition of their defeat?"

Ivan, amused by the quarrel between his Servant and Chris', cleared his throat as he recollected how the battle in the Azores and in Danemark unfolded.

"To begin with Rider, he attracted the attention of both Red and Black Servants, who joined forces to face him. From what I know, he made extensive use of his Vimana but only played around."

"Tch! This moron...in order to vanquish an unexpected and stronger foe, obviously two enemies would team up. He should have allied with either Red or Black Faction, and proceeded to eliminate the opposite Faction, even if that meant destroying only one side. What about Lancer?"

"As for Lancer...well, he only fought his opponents one by one and he had the upper ground through and through...but he couldn't finish any of them off and was eventually embushed."

"I see. Since this is Lancer we're talking about he must have gotten carried away and only wanted to hunt for his pleasure. We can't expect anything from someone who will neither use his head nor listen to directives."

In his corner, Saber simply shook his head while still wearing a half-derisive smale, and he unfolded his arms to raise them as if saying ' _That can't be helped, can it?_ '

"Isn't that what we expected anyway? Lancer and Rider are strong; a special characteristic of strong people is that they only answer to themselves." Saber moved away from the wall to walk on the white marble floor until he was in front of the massive gate of the shrine. "And isn't it better this way? To be perfectly honest, I can empathize with them: this is a war between heroes! We have to profit of this occasion to fight to our heart's content, whatever the prize and whatever the odds! Isn't it fine to simply go ahead and fight instead of using spineless schemes?"

Archer frowned as she listened to Saber's impetuous speech.

"Those are the words of someone who isn't aiming to vanquish his opponents, Saber." She spoke with a heavy voice, heavy with a threatening feeling. "Do I have to understand that it doesn't matter to you whether we win or lose?"

"Exactly." Saber's carefree reply to those sharp words was even more impressing in a way. He said it all as if it was obvious. "I have no interest in something such as the Holy Grail, and neither does my Master. I don't have any regret about how I lived and how I died, and there's nothing I could wish more than fighting strong opponents; I needn't do more than participate actively. If I was ordered to win this war, I'd have no choice but to oblige though."

"Hmph...Whatever, as long as you prove to be more useful than our other two colleagues..."

Archer said this in a way that indicated the matter was closed, and she silently started to head toward the exit of the cathedrale, her armored legs making a clanking noise with each step. That should have been the end of it, but as she walked past the Servant of the Sword:

"Why do you want the Grail so much, Archer?"

Archer stopped in her track. Her back was turned to Ivan and Chris, yet the two Masters could feel the anger burning silently inside of her. For a short moment, Archer didn't utter a word nor did she move a muscle, like one of the immuable white statues decorating the city on the Ark.

"Why do you mean, _warrior_?" She emphasized that last word with the tone of someone reminding another person of their place. "If I am to participate in a war, isn't it obvious that I'd try to win it? I would be a poor excuse of a king if I didn't."

"Are you trying to say you're only performing your role as a king, even though you've been relieved of your duties already?"

"..."

"What I'm curious about is your wish. You're not like me, you don't like fighting. That means, you're smart enough not to fight unless you have a good reason." Saber had no intention of backing down. When they had been summoned there was no real different between them, but as time passed it seemed Archer of White's and Saber of White's personalities were completely incompatible. "What is your wish for the Grail, King of Assyria?"

 _CLANK!_

As immediate reply to his query, Archer stomped her foot so hard on the floor that white ground fissured. Silence fell again. But before long, Archer of White turned around with a metalic noise. Even though her expression was that of wrath, it was different from mindless anger which waited only to be unleashed; her ire had a regalian beauty to it, her face displayed both the placidity of a wise man and enmity of a soldier. It was the expression of a king passing judgement. Saber also turned around to face her, but he wasn't tense in the least; on the contrary, the grin forming in the corner of his mouth testified his enjoyment of the situation.

"...Shall I give you the fight you want so earnestly, Saber?" Archer muttered dangerously. " I that is all you want, then fight right here and die. That way we'll be rid of a useless warrior."

As she pronounced this last sentence, Archer's personal weapon appeared with a flash of golden light. In the king's left hand was now a magnificent self bow almost as long as she was tall. There was no bowstring attached to the handle however, as if there wasn't supposed to be one. But what really put this bow apart was its handle: it wasn't made of wood, metal or any traditional material used for this part. Instead, it appeared to have been made from a greyish-white stone, resulting in a bow which looked both heavy and impractical. There were unrecognizable motifs carved into it, and the extremities of the handle were sculpted in the shape of green feathers, making them look like wings.

"Heh, you know how to make a deal appealing, Archer!" In response to the Servant's challenge, Saber also had his weapon materialize. "Even if you don't understand our passion, you still know how to tug our heartstring!"

Saber's sword paled in comparison to Archer's bow, mainly because it wasn't the genuine article. In appearance it looked exactly like a sword, but any Servant or magus could tell there was little to no Mystery contained in it, and it was effectively just a wooden dummy.

The two Servants held their weapon in front of them, ready to step forward and fight to the death at any moment.

In the sidelines, Ivan had been observing their exchange with a heightened interest. However, he'd have to stop them were they to actually fight. It wasn't because he didn't like battles, or because he was the de facto leader of the White Faction. In the corner of his eye his apprentice wasn't hiding his fear, and he was tugging at Ivan's sleeve with a trembling hand. Chris wasn't afraid of the conflict between his Servant and Ivan's; he was only genuinely worried for Archer. If possible, the little boy probably didn't want her to fight no matter how strong she was. However, he didn't have a powerful enough personality to step in and stop them. That was why, out of respect to his feelings Ivan would separate the two even if he had to use a Comman Seal.

He didn't need to though: before Archer and Saber could exchange a single blow, they were interrupted when the gate of the shrine was smashed with a loud noise that filled the empty city.

As the broken wooden gates fell heavily on the ground in a great clatter, all the people present in the cathdrale saw the person standing in the giant frame with the light from outside outlining their figure. Standing over three meters tall with a body as black as coal, Lancer of White was the one responsible for this dramatic entrance.

"..."

He didn't say a word, and similarly the surprised crowd remained speechless. Because of the intense sunlight contrasting with the darkness of the place, his black mass seemed undiscernable and deprived of any feature. The exception was his eyes, his red eyes piercing inside the cathedrale with a ruthless malevolent glow. Time didn't stand still forever, and the giant Servant walked into the shrine with loud steps, seemingly heading toward the end of the vaste room.

"Lancer, you...!" Archer opened her mouth to admonish him, but the spearman outright ignored her as he passed between her and Saber. It was as if he hadn't noticed them at all.

"..."

A dangerous aura was emanatting from the Servant of the Spear, strong enough to signify them to keep silence, and the sheer pressure of it was threatening enough for Chris to hide behind Archer's back out of fear.

It became clear that Lancer was heading for the altar below the main stained glass. As he got closer and closer to his objective, a deep monstrous growly slowly rose up from the depth of his chest, becoming more audible with each step. Inside the silent sacred place, it could be compared to the sound of an organ pipe rising in intensity. By the time he reach the altar, Lancer of White was baring his teeth with a demonic look of unfathomable fury, and the growl finally exploded into a beastly howl which pierced Ivan's eardrums.

At once, black fog rose from Lancer's shadow and gathered in his hand to form a massive spear of black metal. As soon as the weapon had finished materializing, with a great movement of his muscular arm Lancer swung the spear down on the altar and reduced the latter to shreds. It didn't stop there, and with the same frenzied violence he proceeded to ransack the once-sacred shrine around himself. This holy place wasn't affiliated with any known religion, and nobody would ever know who it was that the act of desolation was insulting; but to Lancer who hated all deities and all religions equally, this ambiguousness made it an amalgam of all religious faith in the world, hence why he came here to vent his anger and frustration.

The spearman was still ravaging the cathedrale when Archer clicked her tongue and turned her head away with disgust, not wanting to watch this sorry display any longer.

"Let us leave, Master." She gently pushed Chris' back to lead him toward the exit. Considering the child's terror, this gesture was also meant to reassure him. "Everything in this place is unpleasing."

After she had left, Saber dematerialized his sword and shrugged dejectedly in Ivan's direction.

"Seriously, that timing was awful. I didn't get to let off some steam in the end..."

"Sorry, Saber." Ivan made an apolegetic gesture with his hand. "It's my fault you are stuck here doing nothing."

"I don't mind, Master." Just as easily as he supported Archer's anger, Saber erased his disappointment with the same carefree expression. "The Holy Grail War won't end over the night, not before I can get some at least. Though, it _is_ frustrating to be surrounded with so many strong fighters without being able to challenge them. Well, Archer would surely have taken my head."

"Really? I belive you'd be more than able to stand your ground against her though."

"Hahaha, no way! She's too scary in the first place!" The Servant laughed without any sign of being scared. "Anyway, what shall we do now? Lancer and Rider both failed, so waht is our next plan?"

"Hm, the first stage of the war still hasn't ended, Saber." Ivan chuckled affably. "I have yet to learn the conclusion on Caster's side."

"Oh, that's right! I had forgotten about them. In fact, I never even saw them before. Can we count of them?"

' _Them_ ', was referring to Caster and Berserker of White. Even after the war had begun the latters hadn't rallied the rest of the Faction and had directly moved toward the nearest Grail Shard, located in northern China.

"I'm not worried. In fact, I don't believe it matters whether or not e can get our hand on the Grail Shards since we already have a few of them. Regardless, I trust Miss Golodiaïev and Miss Angelene."

Ivan raised his head to look at the main stained glasses which now had cracks running all over it. The colored sunlight still entered the cathedrale through it. His thoughts had drifted to the snowy mountains that would be the next battlefield.

* * *

 **Chapter XV: Broken Doll**

* * *

 _ *** Umineko – One**_

Slowly before Lancer of Black, the now familiar scenery unfolded like an old film. It was the place where her Master had grown up, the same she had seen in every dream since she was summoned.

It was a barren land; all the plants were dry and she could feel the heat of the sun weighting down on her through Ewald's memories. The scenery on several kilometers was cribbled with irregular hills, some barely tall enough to be called a mound and others so high and steep they could shield a sizeable area from the sunlight. And in between these the land was flat and covered in dry grass. One area in particular, at least from what she could see, was wide enough to be called a small plain; surrounded by hills it almost looked like a small world sheltered behind great walls.

That was where Ewald lived with his father.

It was barely better than a shack, a small habitation made of wood, earth and stone with only a few rooms. It could have belonged to any time period, but it felt quite anachronistic in the modern world. The inside wasn't any better, as she had witnessed from previous dreams. It only contained the bare minimum for a human being to live. Next to the modest house there was a plot of land covering around twice as much as the house in term of distance. It was clearly being cultivated, although it didn't seem like the harvest would be good; still, there was enough food for two persons. And a little further away was the last ressource necessary to self-sufficiency, water, in the form of a well made of stone.

It really was the bare minimum for survival: there was nothing less, nothing more. Despite that fact, it would be wrong to call those living here miserable. It could be doubted fro teh adult who understood better than a child the gravity of their situation, but the small Ewald who had never left this place couldn't imagine a life better than this one.

Lancer looked at the two of them sitting on one of the hill, bathed in the evening sun and having a passionate discussion together. The man was actively moving his arms around as if he was demonstrating something to Ewald. With each movement some sweat felw off his arms, the sweat he had spilt after working in his field. The way he was moving, he seemed quite enthusiastic and Ewald was looking at him with wide sparkling eyes, in awe.

Lancer could only deduce this, since she couldn't hear them.

It was a problem which was already apparent from her first dream about Ewald's past, but there was something wrong. It was only the voices and the noises; when she looked around she could see some object which had no colors, instead they were a bland white; parts of the scenery were hazy at best, as if they didn't know themselves what form they were supposed to have; finally, from times to time her vision of the dream was disturbed by TV static, or at least that's what she recognized it as.

There was also something fundamentally wrong with the way she felt when she dreamed of her Master's memories: each time she felt less and less of a connection between her and Ewald. During the first dreams, she was able to feel what the child felt to a certain extent, and she was able to partially hear what he was saying with his father, yet the dreams gradually became less clear.

She was all too aware of her own existence. The sensation she had wasn't that of someone witnessing events, but rather reading them in a book or looking at them on a painting.

She was the valkyrie Brynhildr, anybody who had heard about her legend would know she knew a fair bit about memory manipulation. She could tell the problem didn't lie in her – there was an issue with her Master's memories. It wasn't memory erasure, or else even with their mental connection she wouldn't be able to see them at all. But it wasn't simple memory loss: it was almost as if the memory was rejecting her, rejecting the possibility to watch it.

No, it wasn't 'as if'...

(I'm being repelled by it. Is it programmed to drive off mind control?)

It was possible. If Ewald had put a spell on himself to make his mind inaccessible, then it could hinder her ability to see what essentially came from his own mind. But was that the last word?

Puzzled, Lancer looked at Ewald's father's face. She couldn't see it either; it was covered in black, a black similar to dried blood, like someone had rubbed off his face and revealed the paper on which he was drawn.

(Drawn...)

She had also thought of the possibility that those were fake memories, but she quickly scratched that idea – if they weren't indeed forged memories, there'd be no reason to prevent their access. The more she thought about it, the harder it was to understand. She didn't know if she should speak about it with her Master; she felt a twinge of shame or looking at his memories, maybe it would be intruding to ask about that.

It wasn't her business anyway.

It wasn't her business, but she did feel curiosity. That was why she kept sleeping even though a Servant didn't particularly need to. On the other hand, Ewald did need sleep, so he could see her life as well, all of it; even the parts she'd rather forget about forever. She wondered what he thought of it, he who claimed not to feel emotions. Surely the life of someone who was always driven by her passions and her selfishness must have seemed ridiculous to him.

She looked up from the father and son still chatting passionately, to stare at the horizon beyond the see of hills. It was entirely black; the shadows swallowing the world of the dream were of the same red as the one covering the father's face. It had always been like that since the first dream she had, so she knew how it went. The darkness was like a countdown measuring the time she would stay in this dream. Once they reached Ewald Wachhund, each memory ended and she'd wake up. Sometimes they were fast, sometimes they were slow.

This time it was neither; she had been there for a short while, but the blackness was already swallowing up nearby hills, and the house was already being eaten away. So that was it for today.

As the black see reached her legs and she started to sink up to her knees, Lancer was once again hanging her head in perplexity. Not about the meaning behind these dreams; not about what she should do about it; she was wondering at her own heart.

(What...am I doing?)

* * *

 _ *** Higanbana – A Night Sky Filled with Petals**_

At once, after the darkness had swallowed all, Lancer ' eyes caught light again. It was a dim light, weaker than even the morning light. Her eyelids opened and she saw a dirty ceiling, indicating she had definitely woken up.

At the same time, a sound tickled her ears, a mechanical clicking sound of a metallic object being assembled. She was familiar with this noise by now as she often heared it upon rising from her slumber, as if symbolizing the inexplicable rift between the past and the present; it was the sound of Ewald disassembling and reassembling his guns for their maintenance.

It was a nightly routine for him. Because of her lack of knowledge about firearms she ha thought it was simply a necessity to keep them functioning correctly, but she eventually understood it was more of a ritual for him. Whenever he was waiting patiently, he would switch to this routine of his, skillfully handling the different components of his weapon with swift movements and without ever slowing down at any step. Watching him executing this same process at the same pace everytime reinforced the impression that it was being performed by a cold machine.

When she saw him accomplish that task tirelessly and with an unwavering focus, she couldn't help but see a broken doll, repeating the same empty action because it doesn't know what else it could do with its rusty hands.

Putting strength in her mucles numbed from sleep, Lancer's body rose and she sat up on the cold floor. There were no proper beds in this small desolate room, nor was there any of the furnitures one would expect to find in a normal house. In a few words, the chamber was dirty, bland and grey. It was more than enough for them to spend the night in. Lancer was a warrior at the core and a Heroic Spirit, so it didn't matter where she had to sleep (and in all fairness, it wasn't like she hadn't known worse). As for her Master, he would be the last to complain about having to rest on the hard floor; in fact she had never seen him sleep in an actual bed.

They were currently in Southern China, close to the mountainous region of the Himalayas. Apparently that was where one of the Grail Shard spread across the world was located, and it was Ewald's and Lancer's mission to find it and secure it. They weren't alone on their mission though, since they were accompanied by Bruno Blackeye, Saber of Black's Master, and his Servant. This room they were staying in for now had been rented for extremely chaep considering the impoverished rural region they were in. It was their last stop before wilderness; once they would have departed from this small village they would encounter no civilization.

Ewald heard the rubbing of Lancer's tunic as she stood up, and turned his head around from his manual task to meet her eyes.

"Good morning. It's night though." He greeted her, his words blank to a fault.

"..."

Lancer didn't reply. She was not ignoring him, but as soon as her eyes laid on her Master's face her mind flashed back the little boy she had seen in her dream. Then the unavoidable question born in her wandering mind crept up again: what had happened for the joyous child to turn into a machine of flesh and bones?

"...?" In front of Lancer's interrogative stare, Ewald could only tilt his head in confusion. "Is something the matter?"

"...!" Lancer realized she had been staring at him silently, and looked away with a stern look. "No, I'm fine."

Ewald hadn't asked about her personaly, yet she intuitively answered to him the way she did. She realized that fact all too late, and she cursed herself. But Ewald seemingly didn't pick up on it; because he was entirely oblivious to these kinds of things. Lancer was nonetheless in a fool mood, and she ruminated as she turned into spiritual form so that he may not see the look on her face.

(Why wouldn't I be fine?)

She told herself that in a rhetorical manner, but she was honetsly wondering that same question. The fact was that Lancer didn't have the slightest idea how she felt about her Master.

Ewald Wachhund, the mercenary who didn't feel emotions.

Lancer's first reaction upon learning that was to loath him as though he had directly wronged her. That was how she had felt in fact; the Heroic Spirit Brynhildr whose story was woven with love and hatred, powerful emotions which had moved all of her strings as a human. Those feelings had still been strong in her heart when she was summoned, hence her scorn for that young man who couldn't feel them.

But was that really it? In hindsight, she had realized it wasn't true: she had been envious of Ewald, terribly so, and at the same time she couldn't understand him. He was free of the flames which had tormented her so cruely for so long, something which she direly sought.

And yet, he wanted them back?

It wasn't like she couldn't understand his point of view, at least know that she had calmed down. But her pent up frustration got the better of herself she had lashed out at him, more than once. But it wasn't all. There had been something she saw in him which upset her, a foolishness that could only make her want to berate him. But it wasn't Ewald's fault, for it wasn't him she was mad at.

It was herself.

When she saw this Master empty of emotions, she also caught a glimpse of a young girl with wings as white as clouds – herself.

Valkyries, the maidens of war and daughters of Odin – in truth little more than empty dolls, Divine Spirits devoid of useless emotions and, as a result, more vulnerable to them once they were thrust upon them. Lancer had been little different from him when she was the eldest of the valkyries, the shieldmaiden Brynhildr. She had fulfilled her tasks without wondering the why or the who, always acting with an unreproachable rectitude and impartiality. That was what eventually caused her downfall though, and for this reason she hated her old self.

Suddenly Ewald raised his head and spoke to empty air.

"Lancer, are you hungry?"

 _No, I'm not. Are you, Master?_

"No, I just thought I'd ask."

And with that he resumed his work of maintenance, ending the conversation just as abruptly as he had started it.

This was another intriguing side to her Master. He was as expressive as a stone, yet from time to time he would ask questions like that out of nowhere. It was probably Ewald's way to try to be considerate, but he was quite awkward about it. As a Servant Lancer would rather he didn't bother about her and simply focus on the war; this was a job and nothing more. On the other hand, her Master's clumsy tentative did manage to change Lancer's first impression of him.

He was almost like someone trying to learn how to cook and cutting their fingers in the process – an inexperienced child tumbling but getting back on his feet. Somehow she couldn't conserve her earlier resentment. On the contrary she almost pitied him.

Then there was also her curiosity regarding his past. Incidentally, considering their lack of communication, those dreams were her only occasion to understand the human called Ewald Wachhund.

But she didn't like. She didn't want to learn more about her Master; she was merely fulfilling her role as a Servant and as a shieldmaiden, nothing more.

Then why? What was this uneasiness that was nagging her and had her worried?

* * *

 _ *** Muv Luv Alternative – Briefing**_

Some hours later, the clicking of Ewald's through job was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the small room's door. Neither Ewald nor Lancer put up their guard at the suden arrival, recognizing this walking pace and the weight behind each step.

Soon the door creaked open to reveal the other owner of the rented room: Bruno Blackeye. The middle-aged man was covered from head to toe in white warm clothes, to the pont where there was a comical ressemblance with a snowman. It was the dead of winter after all: the hills and plains surrounding them in all directions were covered in such an immaculate white that the scenery became monochromatic during the day. Not only that but their destination were the the northermost mountains of China, incresing furthermore the necessity for apropiate clothing.

Even when he was inside the room Ewald needed two layers of clothes to feel comfortable, due to the lack of any heating system. Lancer didn't need any of that though; anybody wearing simply a white tunic like she did would freeze to death in this cold, but she wasn't bothered in the least. Even if they were affected by the likes of temperature and weather, most Servants would simply brush it off as if it was normal. Especially Lancer, considering she _was_ a true warrior of the north. The white of the landscape beyond the town's limits and the bitter cold were almost nostalgic to her, if she had any good memories from her life as a human.

After Bruno removed a few pieces of clothing (since half of it was to resist the biting cold of the wind), he sat up with a sigh on the ground opposite to Ewald. The latter had quickly finished reassembling his handgun and put it back in his bag.

"Has anything happened while I was away?" Bruno asked with a serious expression.

He generally spoke with the tone of an officer, which wasn't surprising considering he was – from what they knew – an ex-military. What was more surprising was the compliance with which Ewald obeyed him. It was true the young man was a mercenary, but it was as a freelance magus and a Master. In other words, there was no such thing as a hierarchy between him and Bruno. But just as Bruno's imperative speech habit, it seemed Ewald was used to be in such a chain of command.

After doing the regular checking, Bruno dug in his large mountain bag in search of something while he started make a report of his own.

"With the help of Saber I'm finally done questioning the locals about the mountains." He said as he took a map out of his bag and spread it on the dirty ground between him and Ewald. "To confirm again, this is where we are at the moment."

He pointed to an rea on the map. It was plan of the region which they had obtained in a previous town, as this place was pretty remote. Then Bruno moved his finger across the map and stopped it over a spot in the wilderness, in the middle of the mountains.

"And this is our approximate destination."

"Do we at least have an idea where to search?" Ewald inquired. "If we actually get lost this might become dangerous, so the less time spent up there the better."

Bruno nodded.

"We only detected a change in the ley line around this zone, but since it covers quite a distance there is no way to narrow it down. As for the time it will take us to get there, it would be at least three days on foot. I found someone in town who'd be ready to take us as far as this in exchange for money." he pointed a location between the mountains and the town, though closer to the former. "Once we are here, considering the weather condition should optimal, at least a day and a half."

Bruno looker up from his map to glance at the corner of the room where two large bags were resting.

"What about our food supply?" He asked to Ewald who was in charge of checking their material.

"We have enough food and water to hold a week if we eat moderately, so there should be largely enough even in the case we get delayed. That's still the best case scenario though; considering the magnitude of the possible fights, there's a possibility we might lose a part or all of our equipment. We could hide it before an encounter can take place, but then we fight not be able to find it back."

"That's a possibility. There's only us and no one to come looking for us if we're MIA." He turned his head around, in the direction of the door, as if he was looking at something in particular. "If it comes to this, I hope we can count on you, Saber."

Bruno had used a surprisingly softer tone when addressing his Servant, probably by respect or to avoid angering her. As soon as he did, a cloacked figure materialized inside the room: a tall woman at least 190 cm entirely wrapped inside a kind of brownish raincoat which hid any particular feature. Even her gender would be uncertain if Ewald and Lancer hadn't spoke with her at New Edge's headquarters. She hadn't taken it off once since they had met her and they didn't have the slightest idea of what she might look like.

As a matter of fact, Lancer had no idea what Heroic Spirit she was. The only information the Black Faction members had about her was her class. Normally they had a tacite agreement that they should share their Servant's True Name as a safety mesure, yet strangely Assassin, Saber and Caster weren't affected by that rule.

The Servant of the Sword looked at them with her piercing eyes from under the hood as she answered dryly.

"What are these warriors who can't even survive in the cold?! Ugh, well I don't want to lose my Master over something so stupid!" She heaved an exsperated sigh. "On the other hand, I will prioritize you in case of danger, brat. As for this guy," A brown muscular arm emerged from the coat and raised its finger toward Ewald. "I can't guarantee his safety."

"Indeed, since that is _my_ role." Lancer, who had materialized mid-way through the briefing, declared in an acerbic tone. "Then, you won't mind if I do the same, will you?"

This voice of her carried a dangerous tension into the room. To this Saber merely clicked her tongue and disappeared with a ' _Fine by me_ '.

Bruno scratched the back of his head and heaved his own sigh of exasperation.

For the record, although there were clear sign of enmity between Saber and Lancer it wasn't specific to them. Unlike the Red Faction composed of variably affable people, the Black Faction had some serious teamwork issues. It was partially due to the fact they were a group of people ready to stand up for their personal objectives, and none of them ignored that once the opposite Faction was brought down they'd have to fight each other to the death.

That didn't concern Bruno and Ewald though: they were professionals who held efficiency and practicality above everything else, hence why they weren't affected by that kind of atmosphere. That didn't mean they trusted each other unconditionally of course, but if they couldn't even rely on their teammate to watch their back they wouldn't survive at all in a fight.

This wasn't only a battle between Servants – the Holy Grail War was a ritual between Master to begin with. That was why they couldn't just entrust their safety to their Servant and hope for a cilivilized battle.

"This addresses the issue at least." Bruno brought his attention back to the map at his feet. "Now let's go over our method of operation! Wachhund, you and I are not to get separated; a maximum distance of thirty meters would be optimal, but at the very least we have to make sure to keep track of the other, understood?"

Ewald nodded.

"With our equipment we'll be even harder to spot in those snowy mountains, so don't release your attention. Moreover, none of us will ever open fire or launch an attack of any kind without warning and consulting the other, understood?! This also stands for the Servants! If we want to keep the element of surprise we must keep our movements from being noticed. This also means Saber and Lancer shall remain in spiritual form as long as there's no need for them to materialize."

No one answered, but no one objected either in silent agreement.

"It should be fine as long as we're on the road, but once we've reached the sierra, assume we're in enemy territory. Considering the Red Faction is composed entirely of magi, it is safe to bet that we won't encounter any traditional traps – don't entirely discard the possibility though. What is more likely are magical traps and barriers. On that side I'll trust our Servants to detect them, especially since activating a single one of them will probably trigger an alarm. Understood?" Bruno looked around the room. "Any question?"

A hand was raised. It was Ewald's.

"What are the odds to encounter enemies? For we know we could have gotten here first, or they might ignore the presence of a Grail Shard here. Yet you sound pretty confident we will cross sword with the Red Faction."

It was true that Bruno had done his briefing as if he was convinced there would be people waiting for them. Bruno nodded with a grave expression.

"The chances are 100%."

""!""

Even if they didn't expect any less, Lancer and Ewald were still taken aback by Bruno's certainty. The ex-military pointed toward the door in his back with his thumb to designate the invisible Saber.

"We also thought of asking if anybody came here before us just in case. As it turns out, our enemies were ahead of us this time."

"Any information?"

"They came to this village half-a-week ago according to the man who will drive us. An elderly man, an adolescent and a little girl, all of them strangers. That is suspicious enough in and off itself, but apparently they headed toward the same place as us, down to the road they took. There's no reason to believe they don't know the approximate location of the Shard, so we'd better be ready to cross swords with them."

So a confrontation was unavoidable. Not that it was a bad thing; searching for Grail Shards was the unnatural part to begin with: the Holy Grail War was supposed to be a battle between Masters and theur Servants to begin with, so staying away from battle was not recommandable. Even if they managed to gather all the Shards without clashing with the Red Faction it wouldn't change the fact that they had to get rid of them.

The real question here was wether they were expecting Ewald and Bruno or if they were oblivious to their arrival. It wasn't impossible they had placed a detection field on this town to be alerted, but even Lancer who was more than knowledgable about magecraft didn't feel anything.

At the end of the day, there was no helping it. They might have been throwing themselves into the lion's mouth but it was still the best move. At any rate, Bruno's safety instruction were more than necessary to progress smoothly, so everyone agreed without protest.

"We're moving at 5 a.m, before dawn. Until then please get some rest and be ready." He exchanged a heavy look with Ewald. "Try to stay alive."

 _ *** Stop music**_

* * *

The night had fallen on this part of the world, and the dark of the night was being filled to the brim with stars shining like an infinite sea on the firmament.

Not a single cloud had come to spoil this breath-taking sight to those far away enough from the cities to behold it to their heart's content, and in the absolute darkness of this remote land devoid of artificial light the eyes were attracted to this view like a moth to a fire.

Such a spectacle could be seen far from the town where Ewald and Bruno were sleeping, in the mountainous region toward which they would be heading with the morning light.

In this area where the earth rose high as though to reach out for the sky, the scenery was of a pure, immaculate white sparring some cliffs and corners which were too steep for the snow to stick to.

The striking whiteness of the landscape offered a magnificent contrast with the obscurity of the celestial sphere and the light of the pale moon reflected on the snow, further enhancing its distinction in the dead of the night.

And overflowing in this timeless decor was the sound of silence. A silence so heavy and so untouched that it became almost tangible and weighted as much on the mind than on the body. A silence undisturbed by the sound of wildlife, allowing only the whistling of the mountain wind brushing against all life with cold air.

Until...

"Boooooooriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnng!"

 _ *** Umineko – HANE**_

This sacred and unsoiled silence was abruptly broken by a girl's loud and unsubtle cry of distress. The shout echoed through the mountain range, and before it could die out a boy's voice rose up to answer to it.

"Shut up, you're ruining the mood!"

"But it's boring! There's nothing to do here, so I'm bored! Why did you choose the moutains anyway?! Why not go to the sea instead?! I wanna go to the seeeaaa!"

"We didn't _choose_ to come here! And there's no such thing as a sea in a range of hundreds of kilometers anyway!"

With the two's absolute lack of restrain and the distance crossed by the reverbation of their quarrel through the empty mountains, the whole region could hear their antics. The voices belonged to a young man and a woman in her midtwenties sitting in the snow on a relatively small plateau up in the Himalayas. They had been sitting calmly in the quiet of the night, until the woman had stood up all of sudden and started whailing fervently.

The boy was an adolescent visibly approaching his late teens, with short dark blue hair with a bang falling on the right side of his face and hiding everything from his cheek to his forehead. He was appropriately wrapped up in winter clothes from head to toes and was curling up in a ball to keep as much warmth as possible. In fact even that was not enough to keep him from shivering from the insane cold, but it seemed his heated argument with the woman next to him was more than making up for it.

His name was Laurent.

Just Laurent.

He had no surname as far as he could remember – which wasn't very far in hindsight – and he was always only reffered to as 'Laurent'. That was of little importance to him though. What was more urgent was scolding the womanchild by his side who was spouting utter nonsense at the worst possible moment. It was less scolding than yelling just as strong as her though, since proving her wrong would be an impossible and fruitless task.

That woman was Archer class Servant of the Red Faction, the Servant linked to him by a contract. Though as could easily be understood, she was a handful. That aside, she and Laurent were diametrically opposed in more than one way. She was taller than him to an almost offensive point, towering above him by a full head and a half. The most striking, and by far the most stupendous, was the fact that she wasn't wearing any cloth made for the harsh temperature of Tibet. On the contrary she looked like she had decided to wear as little clothes as possible as her lower body was clothed only with some kind of miniskirt made with feathers from all sizes and color, and her upper body was covered in a disgustingly pink shirt with a glittering, smiling dolphin on it.

That was it. Two pieces of clothing to cover her caramel-colored mucles from the cold wind of the high heights in the middle of winter. That was ridiculous! Even if Servants are superhumans they could still feel cold and heat, right?! Yet she casually dismissed that obvious fact with a:

' _But isn't it cold in the ocean too?_ '

If the ocean was that cold it would freeze! Also, why always the ocean?!

And if that was the only disturbing thing about her, but that pink shirt was like a disease for the eyes. First of all, it was way too pink; visually speaking it felt the same as a sweet with too much sugar: it was sickening. The other issue that was clearly a shirt made for kids, and seeing an adult wearing it was quite out-of-place and disheartening, which was made all the worse by the fact that Archer didn't see any problem with it. Also the dolphin's smile was creepy and its eyes were staring deep into Laurent's soul.

' _Dolphins are animals of the sea! I like it!_ '

If something like that lived in the sea then he wouldn't dare set a foot in it! Also, was anything living in water alright for her?!

' _If it looks tasty, yes._ '

There was no way that dolphin looked tasty!

But the truth was that this shirt was a necessity (though anything other than this horror would have done just as fine). Originally, when Archer had been summoned she had only been wearing the skirt; without it she would have been in her birthday suit. Because they couldn't have her walk around like that, and for other naturally obvious reasons, they negociated with her and managed to have her wearing something to at least cover her chest.

And there was at least another reason why Archer wouldn't wear something other than this shirt:

' _This is a special gift from Lily! What do you have to say against that,_ _slave dog?_ '

He was not a slave dog!

But that aside Archer had an actual point. 'Lily' was the nickname the Servant had given to the little girl sitting in the snow between Laurent and Archer. Her full name was Ladylee Velverossa Vasilia – she was the daughter of Victor Vasilia, one of the people supervising the Red Faction in the Holy Grail War. She was also the actual Master of Archer of Red.

Laurent didn't know the details, but apparently the contract between Archer and Ladylee had been split and shared with him. That way, although he wasn't originally her Master Laurent is the one providing Archer with mana. That was as far as it went though, and he had no authority over his Servant; it wasn't he who held Command Seals.

As the servitor and caretaker of the heir of the Vasilia family, Laurent couldn't possibly badmouth her taste in shirts and risk to hurt her feelings. There was no way in hell he would ever do such a thing: he prefered having to bear with that accursed dolphin and have a staring contest with it.

"Boring~! The sea~!" Ladylee gleefully repeated Archer's words as though she was playing some kind of game. Holding her small knees while looking at the pristine beauty of nature, she had the expression of bliss of a child having fun.

"Look, you're giving a bad exemple to the young lady! Young mistress, please don't imitate this childish person."

"Whoooo's a childish person, slave dog?" Archer glared daggers at Laurent, but she still looked like a sulking child throwing a tantrum. Incidentally she wasn't very threatening and Laurent wouldn't flinch.

"You are! A childish, inconsiderate and insensitive Servant like you isn't a good exemple for her to follow! We should have summoned a paragon of virtue, something else than that poor excuse of an adult..."

"What part of me is childish, huh?! I just want to go to the seeeeaaaa! I wanna gooooo!"

"That's exactly what I'm taking about!"

"What's childish about that?!"

"Childish~! Poor excuse of an adult~!"

"W-wait...! Lily, don't side with him!"

"Mwahahahaha! What are you going to do now, Archer?!"

"Slave dog~!"

"Don't repeat thaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!"

And so both Archer and Laurent had their heart broken by Ladylee. Laurent had to use all his willpower to resist fainting and freezing to death in the white snow. He couldn't die yet; he wasn't done admonishing Archer.

"What would you do to the sea anyway?"

"Fish! Fish all day, everyday!" A trickle of saliva ran down from Archer's mouth as her imagination took her far, far away from the cold heights to the cerulean waters. "And then I'd make a huge feast with all the fish and weird stuff I pulled out. Hehehe~..."

"We don't need any fish right now!" Laurent savagely interrupted her reverie and made a cross with his arms. "This kind of idleness is counterproductive to our mission!"

"When do you not need fish?! There's no water around here so I can't even pretend to fish! I'm a fisherman, I want to fish!"

Having said that, Archer grabbed a handful of snow from the ground and, without any warning, threw it in a straight line toward Laurent's face with all the strength a Servant had had.

"If you like that snow so much you can go ahead and eat it!" She roared as her snowball hit on the mark.

Laurent was unavoidably pushed back by the sheer momentum of the throw and sprawled powerlessly in the snow. This could have knocked him out, but the sudden cold of the snow touching his neck and infiltrating his clothes prevented him from living the realm of the livings, and his body immediatly jolted uncontrolably.

"GyaaahAaaAAAhaaa!? Damn you, Archer! Why don't _you_ eat snow!"

Laurent entered a frantic state of rage and he promptly gathered tons of snow into snowballs to throw them at Archer who was laughing as she pointed her finger at him in a mocking demeanor. Unfortunately, none of them could even graze Archer, let alone hit her. With her superhuman speed the latter effortlessly dodged the hopeless attempt of a mortal to take down a legend.

"Hahahahaha! What kind of weord dance is this, slave dog?!" She threw a second snowball at Laurent, which didn't fail to knock him away again. "Resistance is futile! Why don't you just submit to the great m-!"

 _Plaf!_

As she was ranting like a third-rate villain, Archer was interrupted when a snowball the size of a small fist hit her face mercilessly and covered half her visage in cold frozen water. The smile on her face was frozen as well, and a vein pulsated on her temple.

"Hahaha~!" Was the amused laugh of Ladylee, who had thrown the deadly projectile.

"Hahahahaha!" Was the ruthless laugh of Laurent who was still laying down on the cold ground. "What about this, fisherman?! The great you got hit by a littl-"

"DAMN YOUUUUUUU, YOU SNEAKY LITTLE BRATS!"

What followed could only be described as a snowstorm. At any rate the three of them were making an unparalleled racket while fighting like children (though only one of them was). Needless to say, Archer was eventually declared the winner by default when her opponents either couldn't stand up or were soaking wet.

 _ *** Higurashi – Iru**_

After an unanimous agreement that their star gazing had lasted more than long enough, the three of them started to head back toward their base (with Archer carrying the motionless Laurent).

Their encampment, or their 'base' as they called it although it was temporary, was located a little further on the upper part of the plateau. It was no appropriate place to set up a normal encampment because of the wind and the snow, but they had found a semblance of cave inside one of the natural walls separating the plateau from the yet higher section of the mountain. In actuality they weren't all that high compared to the highest peak of Himalaya, but it was still the middle of winter and while experimented adults might have been able to put up with it, an adolescent boy and a little girl could hardly survive in these conditions.

That was why they had resorted to a 'trick' when they settled in the cave and converted it in a functional base: the result was visible even from afar to whomever observing the sky with enough attention. Considering it was the second half of the night, and that instead of the sunlight to illuminate their path they had to do with the purple-ish night sky, it might have been harder for Archer and Ladylee to spot it. However, thanks to the clear moon they could see it in the distance.

Starting from the pther end of the plateau and progressing steadily toward the night sky, a large column of smoke could be seen. The truth was, this wasn't really smoke but actually steam – steam produced by the difference in heat between the outside world and their base.

"We're back~!" Ladylee sung as they entered the sea of vapor without an ounce of hesitation.

The difference between the exterior – the cold monochromatic Himalaya – and the inside of the cave they had invested: merely upon stepping inside the ambiant temperature rose by at least 10º Celcius, and the sudden heat instantly melted the snow on their face and clothes.

Simply put, the Red Faction's camp was a forge.

It had all the characteristics of a traditional forge, including the flames dancing inside the hearth and casting trembling shadows on the walls. There were also some tubs filled with molten metal, large bucket of water to cool the white-hot steel and a great black anvil placed in the middle of the base.

Of course they hadn't brought all this equipment here by themselves, and they hadn't used a single spell to move them around the cave. The truth was, this was the doing of one of the wto Servants of Red who had come here in China to find the Grail Shard. It wasn't Archer – she was a hopeless fisherman, not a blacksmith. The forge actually the property to Caster of Red who had created it through his **Territory Creation** skill.

It was a class skill of the Caster class, and as such it normally belonged to great magi. That was why it should generally manifest in the form of a magical study or something of the sort – yet it seemed that in Caster's case this was the most appropriate thing to call a territory.

"Welcome back."

Just as they walked into their encampment, they were greeted by a friendly voice. Turning their head to the owner of that voice, they Caster of Red's Master, Charles Pendleton sitting on a wooden chair in a corner. The elderly man, easily in his seventies, was elegantly dressed with a redingote and a top hat even in this heat, as if utterly unbothered by it, and he was waving at them with a benevolent smile.

Ladylee briskly toddled off to Charles and sat on his laps. Though he was slightly surprise by the sudden attack, Charles affectionaly patted her head like a grand-father daunting on his granddaughter. They had been complete stranger when the Red Faction had been formed, but Charles's affability and his fondness of children had won her over quite easily. Even knowing that it was surprising how much Ladylee could trust him.

"How was your stargazing session? Well, I can guess." Charles had a small chuckle and an ironic smork which meant no harm. "What happened in the end?"

"Snowball fight~!"

"Hahaha! A snowball fight in such a place and at such a time." Charles laughed wholeheartedly. "I glad to see the young ones aren't undermined by tension. But! It's still dangerous around here even if you have Archer with you. Please be careful from now on."

"Yes~!"

Charles then bent forward and gave Ladylee a complicit gaze.

"Now...who won the fight, I wonder?" His question was rhetorical as the result was obvious, but Laylee couldn't grasp that and giggled.

"Secret~!"

"A secret? Then won't you share a secret with an old man?" Charles put on an exaggerated sad expression. "I promise nobody will know!"

His ridiculous act obtained another giggle from the little girl. Then, Ladylee approached her mouth to his hear and hid it with her hands as if she was about to reveal an important secret. She whispered something, and Charles was the one who couldn't hold back a light chuckle.

At the same time, Archer brandished the unconscious Laurent as a war bounty and a symbol of victory.

"Lily also received her fair share of snowball in the face though!" Archer denounced her youngest Master with an accusing finger pointed at the fair head. "She also lost!"

"My, is that true Miss Vasilia?"

"No!"

"Wha?! Lily you're soaking wet so you won't lie your way out of this one, little brat!" Archer protested, not noticing she was also behaving quite childishly.

"I didn't lose!" Ladylee pouted andwaved her arms furiously. "I allied with Archer at the end, so Laurent is the only one who lost!"

"Hahaha!" Charles chuckled as he tried to keep from falling. "She's already learning to be crafty, isn't she! I wonder if she's taking after her father in this regard..." Then he gestured toward poor Laurent who had foam in the corner of his mouth. "You should lay him down on a sleeping bag near the fire and let him rest. Not too close though! Now, if you'll excuse me Miss Vasilia..."

He stroke Laylee's head, indicating her he wanted to stand up. Although reluctantly, the little girl obliged with a pouting expression and jogged to the fire to lay down next to Laurent.

(Good grief, these children are brimming with energy.) Charles sighed internally. (It's good. It's better than having them stay on edge all the time for naught.)

 _ *** Stop music**_

The elderly man leaned on his cane to stand up from his chair and dusted his redingote. Calmly, he walked around the cave and stopped his feet in front of the, next to another man. Caster of Red, a tall man of sturdy build with a long and dense cerulean beard running down his waist, was bent over the black forging tool, staring with interest at a sword he was forging. It should be noted that up until now, the Servant had been busy doing his work as a blacksmith and the sound of his hammer hitting steel had resonated loudly inside the cave – but seeing that the children had gone to sleep he had ceased his activity.

"How is it, Caster? Your sword that is."

"Mh? Ah, Master." The strong man turned around to face Charles, and each time he moved his feet the latter let out a metallic noise. "It's far from complete but I am making progress. Although, the real question should be what I'm going to do with it once it's finished..." Caster grumbled and stroke his beard pensively.

"I see. Well, that is something we can hardly decide now. What about them?" Charles's expression became serious, far removed from the affable old man he was a minute ago. It was clear with the way he had said this word that ' _them_ ' wasn't reffering to anybody inside this encampment.

"No movement whatsoever as far as I can tell. Whatever they're doing they are doing it holed up in their fortress."

"Sigh. To think that the Black Faction would be ahead of us..."

What the two men were referring to, was the people who had arrived in this region before us, the Masters and Servants who had settled in a sort of mansion deeper into the moutainous area. Obviously they had to assume it was the Black Faction, just as the latter would have had to assume it was the Red Faction.

However, little did each group know that they had both already been outdistanced by their opponents.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _Another arc, another uneventful chapter. That can't be halped sadly. Anyway, onto the third battlefield! With this arc you should finish to familiarize with most of the remaining Masters and Servants, sparring a few._

 _I had already realized before but, I really do make some heavy description, don't I? I hope it's not a bother since I tend to get carried away in that regard. I also made an exception by using a music that isn't from the Umineko-Higanbana-Higurashi-Rose Guns Days quatuor. Well, it is more of a personal rule but I wonder if it had some eyebrows raised._

 _Once again, thank you for reading! Don't hesitate to comment, review or ask a question!_

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	18. Chapter XVI: White Bishop

_Welcome and thank you for reading this new chapter of Fate/Rongodamiant! Here are the musics for this chapter (sorry, there are more than usual); see you guys down there._

 _ *** Umineko - Discolor**_

 _ *** Higurashi - Inishie**_

 _ *** Higurashi - Night When the Invisible Scares You**_

 _ *** Umineko - Towering cloud in summer**_

 _ *** Lucid9 - Empty Eyes**_

 _ *** Muv Luv Alternative - Bond**_

 _ *** Umineko - rahu goldenslaughterer**_

* * *

 _ *** Umineko – Discolor**_

No matter what, he couldn't seem able to cry, even for himself.

No matter what, he couldnt seem able to become enraged, even against those who wronged him.

No matter what, he couldn't seem to get attached to anyone, even if he wished to.

That was the sad fate of Ewald Wachhund, and even he understood the tragedy of it to a certain extent. He was honest to a fault, always straight to the point and using the most efficient method – but that was nothing more than the behavior of a machine. What made humans and other sentient beings go out of their way to do actions outside of that circle of cold logic was an unknown and uncertain factor known as emotions and instinct. Ewald could also be said to have some instinct, but it was no better than an animal's, a watchdog's survival instinct which was to be used on the battlefield.

In the same way, he wasn't completely devoid of emotions – a slight irritation that didn't even amount to annoyance, a strange feeling toward those with normal emotions that he came to call 'envy', and finally the terrible frustration of his condition. Compared to the array of emotion other people could have, his was like a TV with a bad reception and a lot of static. Nonetheless, that didn't mean he felt desperate about his situation, since he had no such emotion. If anything, this problem of his was closer to a big question mark: why did he feel that way? Why did he want it to change? What is he missing? Would it truly be better to feel more emotions if those he already had were torturing him?

But at the end of the day, the only way for those question to be answered was to take the leap and do what he could to deal with it on his own. But that had proven impossible, hadn't it?

As far as he could remember, he had always had this condition, this lack of emotion and sensibility. People theorized he was victim of alexithymia and tried to see if he could be treated like other patients, but to no avail. Wether it truly was the case, putting a name on it didn't give him any comfort.

Even though he spoke of finding a way out of this strange 'misery', the fact was that he didn't have the slightest idea in which direction he should take his first step. Since he didn't know what ailed him, neither could this machine understand the most practical way to cure it. Or if there was a cure at all.

In the end, he had given up on it entirely – such dictated the cold logic that had been his only ally. The rest of his life was decided by it as well: he didn't become a freelance magus out of will, but because it was the most coherent answer given the abilities he already had; he could already use firearms and a little magecraft, moreover the prospect of death couldn't sow the seeds of fear in the barren unfertile land that was his heart.

Did he really give up though? That question was hard to answer. Before he knew it, it had become part of who Ewald was to look for what he was missing. In the name of necessity and logic he had decided not to pursue it anymore, but there were many signs betraying his true will. For exemple, the fact that he tried to learn ethic and moral even though he didn't fully understand them. Of course, it could have been argued that it was necessary to fit in society; but he was a freelance magus, moral was the last thing his peers bothered with. All he needed to learn was how to do his job.

There were also his pitiful attempts at imitating other people, trying to act toward others as though he could be caring and thoughtful. That was the greatest farce of all, one big joke; though he probably didn't understand the concept self-deprecation, he knew all too well how ridiculous it must have seemed to those around him.

No matter what, he couldn't seem able to cry, even when losing a comrade.

No matter what, he couldn't seem able to become enraged, even after witnessing injustices.

No matter what, he couldn't seem able to get attached to anyone, no matter how hard others try.

That was the same here again, wasn't it? Witnessing the life of a girl from her birth to her untimely demise, what did he feel? Did he feel? Did he really believe he would feel the slightest stimuli, that he would reach the slimest understanding from watching the life of she who was cursed by love?

The life of Lancer of Black, better known as Brynhildr, was laid before his eyes whenever he seeked refuge in his slumber.

But he didn't dislike it. Unbeknownst to Ewald, some sort of fascination was born within him for the life of his Servant. The reason for that was simple: didn't she achieve what he was wishing for? He had beheld her life as a valkyrie, a being which felt no emotion and was only human-looking. They had no need for things such as feelings or opinions, as they were just tools for the God of War, their father Odin. Ironically, it was that lack of sensibility which had caused her downfall as she had judged the battle between Hjalmgunnar and Agnar in all fairness.

The emptiness of her eyes, the frigidness of her body that was just like a statue, all of this felt all too familiar. When she wasn't carrying out a mission, she was just like an abandoned doll without its strings.

It finally struck him that they were exactly the same. The way things were, Ewald was no more human than Lancer during the times she was still a valyrie. These mechanical movements and the pragmatism casting a dull light in her eyes, those felt like a reflection in a mirror to him.

With this Brynhildr that had yet to learn of love and of regret, Ewald felt a proximity he had yet to experience. There was this strange sense of belonging when he saw this side of her – the impression floating in his mind that he could _understand_ her, understand her reasoning behind each action taken.

It was the strangest 'feeling'; he felt something warm spread, something 'pleasant'.

Yet, at the same time...

 _Rejection_.

This was what he felt the most. An unusual, instinctive opinion that was unlike a machine. It was the result of observing one similar to himself for the first time. However, it was nothing like disliking someone too similar to oneself; rather, it was a comparison: at the same time this empty Lancer occupied his dreams, a different thought, another image flashed in the back of his mind.

An apprehensive look.

A few angry mumbles.

Sad eyes gazing at him.

He couldn't help but compare this Lancer who couldn't be swayed by emotion and the one he had summoned. The difference between them was jarring, to the point where they couldn't be called the same person. And yet, Lancer of Black wanted to revert to her old self, to this cold unsensitive valkyrie with no other meaning to her life than the one she received from someone else.

But Ewald couldn't agree with her.

He couldn't understand her reasonss, even after she clearly spelled them out to him. But this and that were different. He couldn't possibly agree with her, for the simple argument that he prefered the Lancer that was by his side, the living enigma, to the Lancer of the past, the one he understood better than anything.

Why was that though? Was it because they were so similar? Yes, maybe that was because he couldn't come to accept his own predicament; the valkyrie Brynhildr and the human Ewald Wachhund had in common that he couldn't come to accept them, no matter what.

No matter what, he couldn't seem able to cry, even when he realized his objective was out of his reach.

No matter what, he couldn't seem able to become enraged, even when realizing the futility of his endeavor.

Yet, even without knowing the reason, he 'felt' the Lancer of the present was the most enviable of all.

* * *

 **Chapter XVI: White Bishop**

* * *

 _ *** Higurashi – Inishie**_

Just as planned, the four members of the Black Faction rose up early in the morning, as the lights of dawn barely started to peek out from the horizon. As they had little time to lose, everything was done quickly and efficiently: they immediatly put on their winter clothes and gathered their belongings. They sorted out and separated what they'd be bringing and what would be too much to take with them. They had different categories of material: their food and water supply, their moutaining equipment, their weapons and ammunitions, and finally some miscellaneous stuff like spare clothing and medical supplies.

As their number was limited, so was the quantity of equipment they could bring with them, even with the help of Servants. For this reason they had no choice but to leave behind some of their possessions that would be too much to carry. Then they gathered them in a pile behind the house they had been renting, and they disposed of it through fire.

It might have seemed like a waste, but there was no real difference between doing that and simply dropping them: whatever they left behind, chances were they'd never see it again; this wasn't a touristic area. Even in the offchance that nobody went out of their way to steal it, it was still safer to get rid of it, just in case more enemies came after them.

After they had paid their rent to the owner of the shack, they set off to find the man who would drive them closer to their destination. They found the person – a short stocky middle-aged man who couldn't speak one bit of any other language than Chinese. Fortunately, the Grail was made so that Servants received necessary informations upon summoning, including languages. As such, and for the whole duration of their trip, Saber of Black was charged with the job of interpreter.

"..."

"..."

The inside of the car was silent most of the time., as they moved down what seemed to be an actual road covered in snow. The only occasions when that silence was broken was when the driver asked them a quasteion in Chinese. Generally Saber answered without translating to them, so it didn't matter much to Ewald. Since the beginning of their car trip, the freelance magus had simply been glancing through the window at the scenery around them.

Surprisingly, the distance between the mountains and the village they had stayed in was filled with a flat terrain, similarly to an open coutryside. For records, to access to the village itself they had had to climb a little already, so it really was surprising to see an area so horizontale. Incidentally, there was little to look out outside the window: just the whiteness of the snow stretching toward the horizon being colored pink and orange by the rising sun.

But Ewald didn't have anything better to do, so he kept staring vaguely at the outside world, seemingly daydreaming. He didn't have his head in the sky though, but that was his way of saving energy for later. He wasn't stressed about their upcoming battle, nor about their current deplacement, even though they had no idea what they would face. It just wasn't in his nature to worry about such things – after being on the frontline enough times, one simply stopped caring it seemed. Or maybe that was just another aspect where he was different from the others.

At least, that was until they got closer to the mountains.

"!"

"!"

"!"

Three of them – Ewald, Lancer and Saber – jolted at once as soon as they felt it: they had just triggered a Bounded Field. There existed different kinds of Bounded Fields; some would keeppeople out, others would slowly kill intruders, and others would activate traps. However, had it been one of those they would already have perceived the effects ontheir person. However, nothing happened which left only one option: what they had triggered was an alarm.

Ewald instinctively moved his hand to his handgun hidden underneath his clothes. Nobody made any violent movement in order not to scare the driver. Bruno's expression was that of confusion at first, but Saber must have explained the situation to him as his face soon grew serious.

 _Lancer,_ Ewald called his Servant, who was in her spiritual form, through telepathy. _Did you feel that just now?_

 _Yes, I'm sure of it. It was instantaneous but there's no doubt that it was a detection spell. But...it was really well hidden. Even I couldn't detect its presence before we activated it. Well, it's too late now, we can only deal with the consequences._

Ewald had to agree: whoever casted this Bounded Field had done a great job concealing it. It was unrealistic to think the entire area was surrounded by one Bounded Field – the cost for maintaining one of that size would be colossal. More likely, there must have been dozens of small-sized Bounded Field disseminated around the main road. As for who was behind it, there wasn't mcuh speculation: someone from the Red Faction, either a Servant or a Master, must have set them up to alert them of any enemies coming for the Grail Shard.

But there was much more important than that right now.

 _Lancer, can you feel anything coming our way?_

They had triggered an alarm just now, so it was easy to believe someone would try to attack and repel them. It might seem like a couple dozen of seconds were too short for anybody to react, but if it was a trap then it was unthinkable; and that was without taking into account the fact that they were facing opponents capable of such a short reaction time.

Since they were in the middle of nowhere, now was the best time for anyone to launch an assault without fear of being seen by the masses. Even though it was normally forbidden to involve citizens into the Grail War, it would be an easy feat to kill their driver here and make him disappear forever.

Lancer, since she wasn't materialised, was in the best position to observe their surroundings.

 _No, I can't detect any life form other than us in the area, neither Servants nor familiars. Looks like they weren't waiting for us. However, I can't do anything if they have a way to hide their presence._

In other words, there was no way to be sure. They didn't seem to be under direct threat at the moment, but this 'what if' was looming over their head dangerously like a sword of Damocles. Saber and Bruno probably had a similar discussion considering the latter didn't say anything to Ewald – he only reached his hand into his coat like the freelance magus did.

For the rest of the trip and until they had reached their destination, no one uttered a single word. Even though they didn't show any real sign of tension – Ewald was unfazed as usual, and Bruno was doing his best to look calm to a certain degree – the Chinese man driving them seemed to have picked up on the mood and contented himself to look at the road and drive wordlessly. In the end, the only sound they could hear was the grumbling of the engine and the few joltings of the car which resulted from the unevenness of the road.

Nothing did happen to them by the time the car stopped in the middle of the white scenery, right in front of the mounts they'd have to climb. They didn't run into any other trace of magecraft on the way, but that wasn't necessarily a good sign. They had already walked into the enemy's trap, so it was to late to doubt wether or not they'd be expected.

They might be under surveillance through a familiar right this instant, even if Lancer couldn't feel anything of the sort.

They stepped out of the old car, and payed the conductor as agreed. Before leaving them, the middle-aged man asked them how they were planning on coming back; mobile phones couldn't reach in this area, and he wouldn't be waiting for them.

They reassured him that they'd find a way and, although his expression suggested he didn't believe in that statement, he eventually left with his car and disappeared behind the horizon.

"What now?" Ewald turned to Bruno with an inquiring look. "I think we've definitely lost the advantage of surprise. Even if we managed to evade surveillance long enough to plan a sneak attack, they know we are here."

Bruno sighed and decided to put down his heavy sport bag for the moment.

"Well, it's not like we ever expected things to go our way, did we? Even if we were spotted, this doesn't change what we have to do, it merely makes it harder." He shifted his gaze in direction of the mountains. "Honestly, it's hard to guess whether they simply wanted to know of any intruder or if they also have traps and ambushes waiting for us."

"We don't need to give a crap about that!" Saber grumbled impatiently. When all eyes turned in her direction, she heaved a sigh of exasperation, realizing she'd have to elaborate. "What, are you brats stupid or what? The only thing that could be close to a threat are Servants, the rest is rubbish that doesn't deserve any sweat. And unless these Red Faction people are morons, they won't have left any of their Servants behind. Not only are they precious ressource to keep at arm's length, but they're supposed to look for that Grail Shard. In short, not only would they be sparring manpower to search for it, but they would be reducing their chances of victory in case of battle."

By the time Saber had finished her speech, Ewald had changed his opinion about her. He had been under the impression that she was the brawn straight-forward kind of warrior, but she also seemed to have some experience in warfaring. Still, he couldn't help raising an objection.

"Traps would actually still be pretty dangerous for us Master."

"Shut up, I said it was no big deal! What are you, a kid?! If you've got any trust in your partner over there then you'll stop complainin', you brat!"

Though it seemed that reply was tainted with pride, the logic of it didn't fail to reach him. She was right, no matter how much prediction they mad and how many precautions they took, they could never rule out that they'd be danger. If he wanted to maximize his odds of surviving, he had to trust his own Servant with his life, even though he was used to counting only on his own forces.

Thinking it to be necessary, Ewald turned to Lancer with what he hoped was an apolegetical look.

"I'm sorry."

"Huh? Why are you apologizing, Master? Wait, don't tell me you weren't trusting me up until now! You know, that's pretty insulting for a Heroic Spirit." Lancer exclamed in disbelief. Even so she didn't look mad at all, maybe because of the disarming honesty he had put in his apology. She still cast him an incredulous gaze.

"Hrm." Bruno cleared his throat to take back everyone's attention. "Anyway, Saber does have a point. From the villagers' testimony, our opponents may count two or three Servants. There's still a long way to climb until we reach our destination, so the odds of encountering a Servant this early on are slim. Even so, please stay on your guard." He turned his eyes to Ewald. "As for for the element of surprise, it essentially depends on whether or not we are being observed by the enemy. When he returns to the village, our driver will trigger the alarm a second time. It would be nice if this could trick them into thinking we've left, but considering they came here in the same way I wouldn't count on that."

Incidentally, if they managed to avoid the Red Faction's surveillance, sneak attacks and guerilla warfare were not out of question. The only problem was that they could hardly know if someone was spying on them.

"Lancer, do you know any magecraft that could help us?"

"Hm? Mm, Master, what's with this look full of expectancy? You look like a child in front of a treat."

"You do, right?"

What, was it his way of trusting her? Was that what it was? It was surprisingly childish, in more ways than one. At any rate, Lancer had her pride as a Servant and felt compelled to answer his expectation.

"I don't know how useful it can be, but I should be able to know if there's a familiar in the surroundings. Just give me a minute."

Having said that, Lancer took a few steps backward in order to nkeel down, and looked at the ground. Then, she started moving her finger across the cold snow to draw some patterns. First she drew a circle side enough that Ewald could stand inside it, after what she moved her hand to the exterior of the circle. The symbols then she proceeded to write all around the circle were not completely unknown to Ewald, at least to a certain extent.

Those were runes, a type of magecraft which originated from Northern Europe during teh Age of Gods. They were particularly used in Scandinavia and Celtic lands, though today they were not a very popular choice among magi. Ewald had tried his hand to it but had found not affinity with it and had eventually given up. Even so he still remembered them somewhat, yet none of the runes inscribed by Lancer were familiar to him.

The reason for that was most likely that those weren't the same kind of rune magecraft. What Ewald had attempted to learn were modern runes, imitations of the Old Runes and the Primeval Runes. The latter were the original, and had been created by Odin himself, so it wasn't surprising that a valkyrie, one of his daughters, would know them.

"As I have been stripped of my status as a valkyrie, it seems the power of my runes has also been reduced. Still, I should be able to tell how many life forms there are in a range of one kilometer around us. Here goes!"

She grasped a few pebbles she had picked up on the ground and threw randomly around the circle.

"...Why did you throw them on the ground?"

"Master, shut up and watch please."

Suddenly, the pebbles started trembling frenetically before actually moving across the snow and toward the circle by themselves, as if imbued with life. Only three of them went past the line delimiting the range of Lancer's spell, and they eventually joined up in the middle.

(Only three...?)

Ewald stared at the pebbles in wonder – the pebbles were probably supposed to represent them, but wasn't there one too few? Then, as the truth struck him, he turned to Bruno and place a hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. Blackeye, I had no idea that you were a ghost."

"Wait, how can you be saying something like so earnestly? And why am I the one who'd be a ghost in this situation?!"

"Master, stop being an idiot, you're destroying the image I have of you. The reason why there are only three is because I reduced the search ti living beings related to magecraft. That includes Saber and I since we are Servants, and you because you're a magus."

"You mean ghosts aren't related to magecraft?"

"Would you please let that joke down? I know you're trying your best but this isn't working. Anyway, there doesn't seem to be any familiar around, so let's move on."

* * *

 _ *** Higurashi – Night When the Invisible Scares You**_

Somewhere else, far deeper within the mountain range, someone else was indeed victim of an ambush, an ambush of most vicious kind perpetrated by the worst scum of the planet. This kind of attack had to be in direct violation of human rights and powered by the tears of orphans too.

"Take that, slave dog!"

Archer of Red jumped out of nowhere and threw a snowball the size of a basketball toward a dumbfounded Laurent at Mach 1. The poor boy didn't even have the time too scream that the white, cold canonball propelled him in the air, making him land in even more snow. Because of the sheer size of that snowball, fifty percent of his body were covered in white to the point where he could have blended easily into the snow-covered scenery.

"Bwh! Using snowballs this huge is cheating, definitely cheating! You already have too great an advantage with your ridiculous specs, so it's completely unfair of you to use ammunitions bigger than what we could ever throw! You promised you'd be fairplay!"

"Ahahahahahahahahahaha! I did, but we never defined what 'fairplay' means, so you can't call me out on that! And am I not kind enough already by not moving from my spot? Would you prefer it if I started running all over the place? Well, not that it makes much of a difference for you since you can't hit me even when I stay in place! Ahahahahaha!"

With a devilish grin which sent a shiver down Laurent's spine, Archer readied two snowballs even bigger than the previous one, and proceeded to throw them at him with just as much savagery.

Ah, what a mess.

It was supposed to be their hour of glory as they triumphed from the tyrant known as Archer. Before proposing this Second Great Snowball War, Laurent and Ladylee had even made a war plan in order to bring down their terrifying foe. But their joint effort meant nothing in front of the concentration of unfairness that was Archer of Red. The latter, all while laughing at them, had effortlessly brought an end to the Resistance. And now Laurent was litterally being turned into a snowman as Archer launched more and more shells, and he could only feel the full brunt of the assault as he was powerless in the face of tyranny.

As for Ladylee, although she had fully participated in the beginning, as soon a Archer's attack became unstoppable she cowered and went to hide farther away. Actually, she wasn't hiding as much as she was sitting in the snow, balled up as to reduce her size as much as possible, and she was pulling her hood down in order to hide her face completely.

"Y-you can't see me! You can't see me!"

It was cute, but useless.

"Hm~? Did you say something Lily~?" With a jovial tone that reeked of lies, Archer rotated to face Ladylee's lacation. There was quite the distance between them, but this fact was meaningless when faced with Archer's ridiculous strength. "This is the end of the Resistance! Take this!"

At once, Archer launched a barrage of snowballs in direction of her Master. The deadly rain would mark the end of their fight, the defeat of courage. But more importantly, it meant that Ladylee's clothes would be soaked, and she might catch a cold!

"I won't let you do that, you monster!"

"Eh? Slave dog, what are you-"

"I shall stand up against your evil scheme, thou monster!"

As soon as he perceived that his own master was in great danger, Laurent's body was filled with unfathomable strength, and he sprang up – while still bearing an uncanny ressemblance to a snowman – and rushed to Ladylee's side. But even that wasn't enough; he had been too slow and wouldn't be able to pull the little girl out of danger's way.

(Then, the only solution...!)

"My body shall become your shield, young mistress!"

"M-Mister Snowman?!"

His heart knew not of fear; his will was unyielding! Without losing a single second, Snowman Laurent jumped in front of Ladylee with his arms spread, ready to receive the rain of cold pain in her stead.

"Huoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"

"No, don't die Mr. Snowman!"

"Don't cry, milady...! This servant is honored to protect your life with his...Urgh!"

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo~!"

"What's wrong with you guys..." Archer, with a dubious look in her eyes, called them out on their drama, before quickly reverting to her own role. "Erm, I mean...Ahahahahaha! This is the end for you foolish brats! The last laugh is mine, and so is the finishing moooove!"

After having done her evil gloating, Archer finally readied her final attack that would conclude the Second Great Snowball War; Laurent was already down and would most likely not get back up, so her last target was Ladylee who was still mourning her meatshield all while pulling his unconscious in front of her to protect her. But her craftiness would not save her this time, for Archer had prepared a fastball that would reach her no matter what. For a little girl like Ladylee, a small snowball should be sufficient.

But before she could put her Machiavellian plan into action...

"Ahahaha- Wait, wh- whaaaaaaa!?"

She was the one covered in snow. Actually, it was more accurate to say she had been burried in snow; as for what exactly happened, it seemed snow itself had rebelled against her. It was hard to put it any other way: when she was about to take Ladylee out, the snow at Archer's feet suddenly arose to catch her and put her down. She barely had had the time to scream that she had been buried under an actual pile of snow. Considering how she had done the same to Laurent, it was quite ironic, an irony which tasted bitter in Archer's mouth.

Immediatly, she erupted from her cold grave, sending snow flying in every direction in the process, and looked left and right to find the culprit. Finally, her eyes landed on someone standing a little farther away, someone who was supposedly arbitrating their battle (although Archer had honestly forgotten there was a referee). It was none other than Charles Pendleton, Caster of Red's Master.

What happened became clear in an instant inside Archer's head: Charles had used his magecraft to launch an impossible snow assault on her from afar. Of course, she lost no time to complain.

"Hey, Charles you can't intervene, you're the referee! Not only that, but you can't use magecraft in a snowball fight! No matter how you look at it, it's cheating of the highest order!"

"Ohoho, is that really so?" A hint of sadism seeped through Charles' nice old man façade, and he flashed an evil grin. If Archer was the evil emperor, then the old magus was the corrupt minister without a doubt. "We never defined clear rules, so there's no reason why I can't step in and make use of the weapons in my possession."

"Uuuuughhh..." Archer could only grind her teeth but not reply as Charles' had used a excuse all too similar to hers. "B-but why are you siding with them?! You could have an easy victory with me!"

"Hmmm, that's not a bad idea. But too bad for you, I've already been corrupted before the game begun!"

"Wha? What?! When!? How?!"

"Ohohoho, why don't you just turned to your right?"

When she heard him say that, Archer instinctivelly did as he said and swung her head rightward. She should have known better and moved out: just as she did though, something white came crashing into her head and sprawled across her face. It was extremely painful, not physically but for her pride which had bee shattered, as if someone had suddenly spat at her visage. The snow slowly slided off Archer's face, and once her eyes were free of the frozen water, Archer saw the person responsible for her shame: Ladylee was standing there, less than two meters away from her Servant, striking a proud pose with her fists on her hips.

Of course. She must had known after the first battle that she and Laurent stood no chance against Archer, and she must have asked Charles' assistance beforehand.

The smug look adorning her face was the most painful all in all, as the little girl was clearly flaunting her superiority in wits. This only acted as a fuel for Archer's anger: a throne won with snow would be lost to snow.

"Yoooouuuu liiiiittttllllleee...!" Archer was seething with rage as she lifted a snowball bigger than she had ever made before. "The Guard dies but does not surrender!"

Before Charles dropped a merciless comment matter-of-factly:

"Ah, incidentally since I am the referee, I get to choose the conditions of losing. Archer, you're out."

"Merde!"

"Hm, it doesn't look like Laurent is still conscious, so I guess that makes Ladylee the winner!"

"Yay, I'm the winner~!"

And thus ended the terrible and bloody Second Great Snowball War of Himalaya. Those who carificed themselves in this conflict for their love of freedom shall never be forgotten.

 _ *** Umineko – Towering cloud in summer**_

Now that the match had concluded, they had to move back to their base to dry their clothes; they had purposefully gone to an area with plenty of snow to have their snowball fight, so now they needed to climb back in spite of injuries. Archer, still extremely sore about her loss, picked up the unconscious Laurent and carried him on her shoulder like a potato sack.

Ladylee, on the other hand, was humming happily for the whole trip back, bouncing and jumping energetically like a bunny. She was sooooo happy of her victory, Archer felt like leaving her the privilege of carrying Laurent herself (* grumble, grumble, grumble *).

As for Charles, he was climbing the mountain with a surprising agility for someone his age – although none of them actually knew what his _exact age_ was – and it seemed the luxurious cane he was always seen holding was just for decoration. No doubt that if he looked like an old man on the outside, magecraft had saved him from the troubles and decaying of seniority.

At any rate, the four of them were back to the cave they had invested after only half an hour of walking and climbing. Though, considering the altitude they were at, wasn't it an incredible feat? Archer had no idea; she was a person of the sea, not the mountain.

(Still, playing around at a time like this...)

Needless to say, they shouldn't be fooling around like they were doing, especially since they weren't in friendly territory. This was the Holy Grail War, even if it had sensibly changed; they shouldn't be letting their guard down at any time. In fact, they weren't: Laurent and Ladylee aside, Archer was always looking out in case someone of something tried to attack them, and she had no doubt Charles was doing the same.

"Well, whatever." Archer sighed.

Yeah, who cared in the end? Playing with these brats, enjoying some stupid conversation and then having a fight; Archer didn't mind. Archer was a Servant, and pretty powerful one at that, but when all was said and done, she didn't particularly prefer fighting over peace, nor was she very diligent. On the contrary she was the kind to play tricks on others and laugh heartily.

So what did it matter if they were having fun instead of fighting right now? Laurent and Lily – those two were kids and should act and live like kids. That was what Archer earnestly felt.

Moreover, it's not exactly like they were slacking on their job but more like they couldn't do much for now except waiting and relieving their tension with meaningless games. Since the enemy had been ahead of them and were already there when they arrived, they couldn't possibly afford to rush in their fortress whithout knowing what to expect, lest they would needlessly risk their life.

If that wasn't enough trouble already, the enemy was also cognizant of their presence here and even had had time to prepare: after leaving the village they had shortly sejourned in, they accidentally crossed a Bounded Field which in turn trigerred an alarm, and now they had little going for them. By the time they had reached the desired location, whoever they were up against had holed themselves up inside a mysterious mansion that was rigorously protected.

From what little recon they did, they noted it was protected by many layers of Bounded Fields and probably just as many traps, and there was an unusual number of familiars keeping watch around the mansion regularly. All in all, it was no exaggeration to call it a fortess; and that was only for the outside, for they didn't know how many Servants they were facing and they could only conjecture about their class.

One thing they were pretty sure about was that there was a Caster among them, or at least a Servant proficient in the use of high-level magecraft. If not, they could hardly explain how they were able to keep up such defense at all times. Whichever Heroic Spirit it is, they seem to be pretty good in kabbalistic magecraft and familiar creation, because as soon as they were aware of their presence they launched an assault consisting only of familiars and golems – and yet Archer found out afterward that their defenses were still up. In other words, they had troops to spare.

She wasn't too worried though, considering how weak that army was; Charles considered them to be at the level of modern magecraft, so it wasn't that big a deal.

Even if the Black Faction was holed up and barricaded in their fortress, it didn't really change anything; it didn't matter how long the Red Faction waited. There was a very simple reason behind that conclusion: the enemy was stuck. In the first place, this wasn't a battle to whipe out each other but to retrieve an objetive, namely the Grail Shard. In other words, as long as they prevented the Black Faction from getting their hand on it they were the winner.

At the moment, they still showed no sign of leaving their fortifications, so they could hardly search for it. It was possible it was already in their possession, but then it would have made more sense for them to try to escape.

To sum, it was a stalemate for now. So let these kids have some goddamn fun while they could. Charles was an experienced magus who fully understood the implication of his participation in the War; on the other hand Archer had gotten quite the peculiar Masters: Ladylee was just a child mostly unaware of the situation around her, and Laurent was just here to look after the latter.

"It doesn't make things easier for me though." A second sigh escaped Archer's mouth as they approached the cavern. "It's far easier to be a Servant than to be a babysitter."

But it wasn't so bad in the end.

Now that they were back to the base, Archer took a walk over to one of the fires buring brightly at all times of the day, and dropped Laurent without an ounce of gentleness. Maybe it was because of the sudden shift in temperature, or maybe it was due to the fact he had been handled like a potato sack till the bitter end, but Laurent woke up from his snowball-induced slumber almost immediatly.

"Uuurgh...Ouch, ouch! My head hurts...In fact my whole body hurt! Ouch ouch ouch!"

"That's what happens when you're a loser who can't win without the help of a little girl." Archer felt the immense need to badmouth hm as much as possible before he learned the actual outcome of their bout. "So, how did my snowball taste, Mr. Potato slave dog?"

"Are you looking for a fight, you...! Wait. Archer, is it me or are you sulking?"

"What, me? No waaaaayyyyy..."

Damn, he was more perceptive than he let on.

Anyway, Archer decided to change her center of focus from a grumpy-yet-curious Laurent to actually drying her clothes. Or rather, the only piece of clothing that required to be dried, namely that pink shirt with the dolphin motif. Her skirt, made of feathers and of grass, would dry very quickly even if she didn't remove it.

"I can't believe you're keeping that atrocious T-shirt with you." Laurent commented as he eyed said T-shirt with a very dubious and pained look.

"It's a gift from Lily! Obviously I'm going to keep it! And weren't you the first to tell me to put some shirt on?"

"That doesn't mean you had to put _that thing_ on! This dolphin is atrocious, no matter how I look at it! You'd question the taste of whoever picked a clothing like that!"

"My, do you want to say that again, in front of Lily this time?"

"Urgh..." She cornered him. That was right, even if the pink T-shirt was an ulcer for his eyes he couldn't bring himelf to openly badmouth the young mistress.

"But, hey, you win!"

"Huh? What do yo- What are you doing!?" Laurent jerked back as Archer took off her shirt in one swift motion.

"I'm removing it, duh. These kind of things won't dry as fast as if you take them off, right? You got what you wanted, I removed that shirt you hate so much!"

"At least have some shame, stupid fisherman! And young mistress, please don't look at her! Someone of your standing shouldn't be influenced by some exhibitionist who walk around 80% naked 100% of the time!"

But Laurent's heartfelt warning came all too late as Ladylee, who had ran over when she heard the commotion, stared at Archer's chest with wonder and admiration.

"Oho~! Hidden treasures!"

"Milady, we both know very well these hidden treasures are all but a huge lie."

"Ahahaha! A man knows not of shame when they bare their chest!" Archer gave Laurent a taunting look as if she was having all the fun in the world. "Of course~, no peeping allowed slave dog!"

"I won't. I don't want to. Even if my life was on the line I wouldn't want to take a single look at your body, you perv."

Laurent wasn't lying just in order to contradict Archer's teasing, nor was it to hide any kind of embarassement. As a matter of fact, he didn't tell a single lie – he really thought each and every word that had come out of his mouth. There was no doubt as to the fact that Archer was a peerless beauty, even Laurent was ready to begrudgingly admitt it. Nonetheless, he was unable to feel any desire for her whatsoever, even should he try. That was because he knew the dark, dark truth, the unfathomable secret hidden behind Archer's body.

"Yep, you better not; that's my wife's body. I swear I'll beat you to a pulp if you take a single peep, slave dog." Archer then added with an all-too-serious tone that felt out of place compared to the light way she usually spoke.

That was about right. This _wasn't Archer's body_ , at all.

It was something they discovered the very moment Archer was summoned. You see, the Heroic Spirit Laurent and Ladylee were going to summon was supposed to be a man, the kind that was strong enough to lift up islands and defeat Phantasmal Beasts without breaking a sweat. Incidentally, Laurent fully expected their Servant to be a two-meters-tall mountain of muscle.

Not that he would have felt more comfortable if that had been the case, but he believed anybody would understand his confusion when they summoned a woman. He first thought they had summoned the wrong Heroic Spirit, but as it turned out they hadn't. This childish woman _was_ the man of legends he had heard of.

But that wasn't the worst part – it wasn't that the legends were wrong about her gender and that she had accidentally been recorded as male; the legends were _correct about his gender_.

 _'Whoops, I only wanted to modify my face but looks like it affected my whole body. Teehee~.'_

No! Not ' _teehee_ '! That was wrong no matter how you looked at it! Well, the full version was that Archer wanted to be summoned with a prettier face, namely his wife's, but ended up taking her appearance entirely.

(I know that there's a similar legend about him but...) Even as he looked away, a grim vision creeped up in Laurents mind.

The reason why Laurent couldn't possibly feel interested in a naked Archer was because, every single time the image of a gigantic, muscular man walking around with his 'Free Willy' would flash in his mind, and he ended up traumatized before he knew it. It may or may not have been part of the reason he antagonized Archer.

There was nothing Laurent could do in present situation, hence he walked away from Archer and Ladylee with a deep feeling of defeat in his chest to go find Charles and Caster. The latters were both located near the end of the cave, more precisely where the anvil Caster used for forging was standing. Naturally, Caster was busy doing exactly what a balcksmith does: he was working on an elongated object laying on the anvil, holding one end with one hand, and swinging his hammer down with the other.

 _ *** Lucid9 – Empty Eyes**_

Said object appeared to be a sword, although it still had a very crude and rough shape since it was still in the early stages of its confection. From what little Laurent had heard from Charles, the blade itself – and not its creation – was Caster's Noble Phantasm, or at least one of them. Laurent had little to no knowledge about how swords were forged, but it was clear even to him that the process here was different. For one, a normal sword made by Caster would have been ready within a day without a doubt – and yet this one had been in the making for some times now. There was also the fact that Caster wasn't using any physical material like iron or copper to make his weapon, but instead was drawing upon his own reserves of prana as the one and only component.

"Hm? What's the matter, young one? Interested in blacksmithing?" As Laurent had lost himself in thought, he hadn't noticed that Caster had stopped beating the metal and had lifted his gaze from his creation to the curious adolescent.

"Ah- E-erm, n-no, not really I just..." Laurent fidgeted as he was taken off guard. Unlike Archer which was basically a manchild and very free-spirited, Caster was more reserved and had an imposing presence. "I-I was simply lost in thoughts. And, hm, I noticed how much focus you put into making this sword, so I thought you must really enjoy smithing."

It was a lie – he hadn't really been thinking about that, at all. But it was the only subject he could think of to feed the conversation; Laurent didn't feel confortable when someone spoke to him and he wasn't able to answer properly.

But when he heard that, Caster heaved a sigh that sounded more like a discontent groan, as if he found that thought ridiculous. He lowered his gaze to his creation once again, and resumed working the metal with heavy _CLANG_ 's that resonated through the cavern. Yet, when Laurent though he wasn't paying attention to him anymore, Caster's voice rose again amidst the sound of the hammer being swung and clashing against metal.

"I absolutely don't enjoy smithing, young one; at least probably not in the way you meant it. As a matter of fact, it has become more and more of a nonsensical chore over the time. Can't say I really like it at this point, can I?"

"You...don't?" Laurent repeated Caster's answer slowly, letting it sink. It wasn't that that revelation was that shocking to him, but it was unexpected enough that he didn't fully grasp the meaning of it at first. "But...but you're a blacksmith. Even in your myth you are known for smithing and smithing only. Why would you devote your life to something you don't enjoy?"

"Mmm..." Caster grumbled pensively, visibly carefully selecting his words. "Young one, you called me a 'blacksmith'. You couldn't be more right, but I deeply dislike this word now that I think of it."

"You dislike it? Why, if it is correct?" Laurent inquired.

"'Blacksmith', you see, only describes what I do – that is, forging. All that matters with this word is the fact that I'm smithing regardless of the result. It doesn't matter what I forge; in the end, I'm only a blacksmith. For this reason, I prefer by far the word 'craftsman' to describe my activity."

Laurent raised an eyebrow, confused.

"Isn't that exactly the same? I mean, 'craftsman' also indicate what you do: you craft. How is that any different from 'blacksmith'?"

Laurent couldn't pretend to grasp his reasoning, and thus expected to be yelled at. But instead he saw with surprise the corner of Caster's mouth curl up. Caster stopped hitting his hammer against the anvil for the second time, and raised the unfinished sword in front of him. His gaze as he was observing and beholding it, was filled with amusement and even – at the very least, that was how Laurent saw it – some form of tenderness like a father looking at his newborn child.

"No, you are not wrong, young one. At least if we look at it objectively, those are indeed the same. However, I believe there is a difference. I believe that because I've been crafting my whole life, and even longer than that. A blacksmith will be smithing, whereas a craftsman will be crafting. However, when you mention the act of 'crafting', the processus suddenly loses its importance and lends it to the result. What people want to see about a craftsman isn't how he crafts but what he has crafted. Yes, that's how I feel."

Caster was about to put down his work and resume his smithing, when a comment from Laurent caused him to stop in his track.

"I understand what you're trying to say, but still haven't told me why you don't like smithing."

Hearing this, Caster cast him an half-incredulous, half-sullen look. Caster's basic expression was that of irritation, but this action still caused Laurent to take a step back unconsciously.

"What do you mean, do you still not understand even after everything I just said? I live not for smithing or crafting, nor do I find happiness in knowing I can make swords and jewelries! Smithing is merely a process, a tool, a necessary step in the creation of a masterpiece! Does the artist care about anything but the result, does the fisherman desire fishing more than the fish?! No, no, no. I am no different from the artist or the fisherman...! The strength that dwells in my arm when the time comes to strike the anil with my hammer isn't spent in pleasure, but in yearning for the ideal blade!"

Caster's voice grew louder as he kept speaking until it became a clamor. As he pronounced those last words, he brandished the unfinished sword above him as if to show it to the heavens. However, a strange feeling had planted its seed inside Laurent, the sad impression that Caster wasn't talking to him as much as he was shouting at himself.

"And what did the potency of my smithing cost me in the end? My two legs,..." Caster continued as he hit his two heels against each other. A metalic sound rang, reveling their artificial nature."...and more than this, my pride and most things precious to me! And yet, despite that very fact, I keep on forging, and I won't stop as long as these arms can move. Why do you think is that, young one?"

Here again Laurent was taken off guard by Caster's unpredictable mood swings, for just as fast as it had grown callous, his voice suddenly quieted down to the point that the question he had directed to Laurent was as quiet as whisper. This time however, Laurent realized the answer all too well.

"That's because there's nothing else you can do. By the time you had realized it, being a blacksmith had become your nature."

He hated how easily he said it; unpleasant memories resurfaced in the back of his mind. On the other hand, he saw a content smirk creep up on Caster's face. The latter put the sword back on the anvil and returned to this activity he had just ranted about, all while replying in turn to Laurent.

"That's right, young one. I am the legendary blacksmith, Völundr; nothing more, nothing less. Only this fact was remembered by the world, no matter the era." His brows furrowed. "I am not complaining about my work, young one. As I told you, I am like an artist or a fisherman. If I covet the result, then I cannot aford to blame the process. Why do you think I am a Caster, and not a Saber? Because all the demonic and holy swords I've forged, all the artifacts crafted by these very hands stopped being mine the very moment they were achieved. They changed hands times and times again, until they found heroes worthy of them. Once that happened, their fame became associated with the warriors who wielded them, not the blacksmith who forged them."

Almost furtively, Caster glanced at Laurent who only stood there as if frozen into place. Did the Servant guess how much his words had affected him? Maybe considering the next question that made its way from his lips to Laurent's heart.

"What is _your_ nature, young one? What is the meaning of the life of Laurent?"

"..."

He didn't answer. He _couldn't_ answer. Not because the answer eluded him, not because he had never thought about it – because there _was no answer_. Thus, for lack of a possible answer, Laurent couldn't satisfy Caster's curiosity. The latter either understood that or grew bored of waiting for something that wouldn't come, for he shook his head silently and refocused his attention on his hands.

He had completely stopped paying attention to Laurent now. While the adolescent boy was greately relieved of this, as it meant the pression of Caster's gaze had gone away, yet at the same time the way their conversation had ended left a sour taste in his mouth. He hated being taken off guard during a discussion, but it was the first time he tasted the bitterness of being at a loss for words.

What was the existence known as Laurent? He wasn't a blacksmith; he wasn't a hero; he wasn't a magus; he wasn't even a proper Master considering Ladylee was merely sharing her contract with him.

What was he in the end? He had no answer. Someone like him who lived in the present only while trying to ignore the future...probably had no such thing as a spark, a wish inside him that would shape his fate. Unlike Caster of Red, he didn't intrinsically know what he was and what he wanted, since that had been stripped away from him.

...Or...

No.

He didn't want to think about it.

The reason why he would allow himself to indulge in childish squarrel with Archer or in mindless games with Ladylee in the first place, was to divert his mind from everything else. Sadly, two words rose like a shadow in his thoughts, two words which once merged would give the answer to Caster's question.

Yes, there was an answer after all, a solution which arrived all too late. But even had he thought of it earlier when he still had the blacksmith's attention, Laurent would probably have preffered to remain silent. After all, that answer was too distasteful.

If every human being had an ontological nature, then he'd be...

"...a _slave dog_."

Wasn't there a reason why Archer called him that? Wasn't there a reason why Laurent couldn't completely refute her? His life held no more importance than a dog, and not the kind that was loved by its master. His end would probably not be any prettier.

"...Whatever."

Seeing no use in keeping this train of thought running – and because he had been awkwardly standing around in complete silence – Laurent walked away from the anil and the sound of the hammer strikes. Strolling a little further down the cave, he eventually came upon Charles Pendlton sitting silently on a wooden chair of unknown provenance. On his left and his right, two other chair were simply standing there, like armchairs in a waiting room.

It was hard to tell what the old man was doing: for a moment Laurent thought he was asleep, seeing as how his head was tilted forward and his back was completely leaning against the chair. However as soon as the young boy approached him, Charles lifted his head slowly looked at him sideway with curosity filling his gaze.

"Welcome to my thinking spot, young man." He called out to him affably in a jesting tone. "What is it you need to think about?"

"This is your thinking spot? Do you really need a special place to reflect on your own?"

"Hm-mh~." Hummed Charles in place of a 'yes'. "I can think anywhere of course, but when I feel the need to immerse myself in contemplation nothing else than a chair will do. I guess this is a side effect of a lifetime spent inside a study."

"How long is ' _a lifetime_ ', Mr. Pendleton? When I hear you say this word I have the feeling it's much longer than one would expect."

"Hoho, is that a subtle way of telling me I look old~? With a little training you could develop a lovably sharp tongue, Laurent."

"T-that's absolutely not what I meant!" Laurent's cheeks fluched a little at Charles' joking. He felt the urge of biting back with the 'sharp tongue' the old magus had mentioned. " If perchance I hurt your feelings, then I am deeply sorry to learn about your allergy to mirrors."

On second thought, maybe it was going a bit too far; the dry tone Laurent had employed made it sound more like an insult than a friendly jab. But he couldn't find it in him to sound nicer at the moment. Fortunately, Charles didn't seem to take it badly, instead flashing a wide grin which said ' _See? This is what I'm talking about!_ '.

"To answer your question, that is to say how long I've been stuck to a desk, the answer would be since I had reached the age of reason until very recently. I think you'll agree with me when I call it a 'lifetime': I can barely remember any memory earlier than that!"

"T-that young?! Wait a minute, just how old are you?! I have a terrible feeling you reached the age of reason two centuries ago!"

This comment might have sounded terribly rude, but Laurent knew for a fact that appearance was a poor indicator of someone's age within the Clock Tower. The vigor Charles was able to display at times didn't help his case. The old magus understood what Laurent meant, yet his answer was inversely proportional to his inquiry in term of seriousness:

"I am forever seventeen! Ohohohohoho!"

A chill raced down Laurent's back – having this kind of joke come from an old man was creepier than he would have expected. That was probably the result Charles had envisioned though, considering the smile splitting his face in two in front of Laurent's reaction.

"And now, Laurent, won't you answer this old man's question?" Charles' smile faded slightly, and the stare he gave him indicated that he was serious this time. "What is it that weight on your mind?"

"What makes you believe I have something to mope about? For all you know I just felt like taking a walk after being knocked out." Laurent attempted to dodge the question, but the magus' reply took him short.

"A walk, with that kind of expression on your face?"

"?" Laurent didn't understand, and could only give Charles a confused look. He brushed his hand over his face to check if he was making some weird face, but as far as he could tell he looked normal. "What are you talking about? I don't have any expression on my face, Mr. Pendleton."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" Charles extended his hand and pinched Laurent's cheek comically. "Put some smile on that face, young man! Ohoho!"

"Ouch! M-Mr. Pendleton you're pinching t-too hard! I can't feel my cheek anymore!" Through much effort and painful twists of his head, Laurent managed to get away from the frightening grasp of the old hand – which was now imitating a crab's clamp. "So what if I'm not smiling? It's not like I'm always walking around with a stupid smile on my face."

"Right, right. Not once before have I heard you mention your love of taking walks. In fact, considering your occupation, I doubt you ever have the time to practice this favorite hobby of yours, am I wrong?" Bantered the old magus. "At first I thought you were simply brooding over another fight with Archer, but if that was the case methinks you would look grumpier than that. If anything, I've never seen you with so little emotion on your face."

"..."

...Was he that transparent? Or was it because Charles had lived a long life? Even Laurent had never noticed that about himself, but he didn't deny the elderly man's words as though his soul inherently accepted them as true.

That was true; at least to himself Laurent couldn't lie and change subject smoothly. He didn't find the strength in him to retort once more, so he simply hanged his head and stared at the floor wistfully.

"Could it be realted to Caster's shouting earlier? If he said anything indiscret you don't have to mind him. He's a cranky old man, just like me." At the same time he was saying that, Charles tapped the chair next to him, inviting Laurent to sit on it.

The adolescent gladly accepted the invitation: he had almost forgotten about it, but he had just had a very physical snowball battle and he found himself very tired. His actual state of mind was also requesting that he stopped standing around and get some rest. Once he was seated on the wooden chair, a wave of drowsiness assaulted him, but he paid it no mind and just stared at the wall in front of him absentmindedly.

"I disagree. He's very short-fused and impredictible, but he isn't wrong in any way, at least not in what he says. I know I shouldn't, but I envy him."

After this short statement, Laurent kept silent for a while. The old magus didn't press him on, nor did he inquire any further. In fact, he was just staring at the wall together with him. This silence wasn't uncomfortable, Laurent thought. It wasn't one of those awkward blank that would weight heavily on a conversation or when something had to be said. They were sitting at a thinking spot, so it was only natural for them to think instead of talking.

Well, not that Laurent was thinking actually – a question was hanging on his lips, but he didn't know if he should ask it, if that wouldn't be indiscreet; Meanwhile, drowziness was slowly but surely gaining ground on his conscience. On the other hand, it was also dissipating his hesitation, and soon enough Laurent asked Charles:

"Mr. Pendleton, what is your wish for the Grail?"

"Hm?" The magus hummed quizzically, probably interrupted in his train of thought.

"I was wondering what you'd need to ask from the Grail. Ah, but you don't have to answer if it's too personal!"

For an instant, Charles just stood there and stared at the ceiling without uttering a word, thinking about Laurent question, how he should answer to it and if he should in the first place. A sound sigh resonated soon afterward and the old man straightened his back on his chair to look at Laurent with a serious expression that was totally different from the one he usually bore.

 _ *** Muv Luv Alternative – Bond**_

"To put it simply, you could say I want a second chance."

"A second chance? A second chance at what?"

"At life."

"?"

It wasn't that Laurent didn't understand the concept of it, but he could only wonder why Charles held sucha wish in his heart. His confusion must have been written plainly on his face, for after another sigh Charles continued on.

"What kind of person do you think I am, Laurent?"

"That's...honestly a hard question to answer. You're a surprisingly kind man, you'd even go as far as playing with the young mistress and listen to my brooding, even though it has nothing to do with you. I must say I wasn't expecting when I learned you're a binafide magus."

"That's exactly it, you put your finger on it."

"?, On what? I don't understand."

"I'm a _magus_." Charles stressed that last word. "Not only that, but I've been one for as far as I can remember, which as you can guess is a lot of time. That's what I am, that's all I can be just as Caster can only be a blacksmith. You describe me as kind, but I'm no different from the others, no different from Victor Vasilia either. I'm a ruthless magic researcher to the core, and I've done my share of immoral acts to progress in my researchs. Until quite recently, that was the truth."

"...Did that fact change?" Laurent was slightly taken aback by Charles' confession, but didnt lose the thread of the conersation. "I can hardly believe what you're saying."

"Even among magus there are kind people; very kind people even. But that doesn't change what they do. In the end, magus isn't a calling but a very nature to follow. But that doesn't matter in my story: you see, one day I met a child."

"What kind of child was it to make you change your mind?"

"What kind? I would rather say no kind, young boy. That's the turth, it was just an ordinary, unparticualr child playing on the sidewalk. I found it irritating, especially since I had been pulling all-nighters to pursue my studies. Of course I didn't raise my hand against him, but I indulged myself in selfish thoughts. I reveled in satisfaction at the thought that I had so much this child didn't have and would never have; that at the winter of my life, I had accumulated so much more than any of those people around me could ever dream of."

"Was that wrong? In my case I'd believe you if you told me something like that."

"That wasn't wrong. Oh no, it wasn't wrong. I was even tempted to say those very words to thsi child, even if it couldn't understand. Ohohoho." His laugh was weaker than before. "What a foolish thing to do, isn't it? I realized that before I could ridicule myself, but I was struck by this sudden awareness. So what if I spoke those precise words to that child. Why would he care, even if I explained what I meant to him in details. So what if he had nothing that I had? Didn't that just mean I didn't have a single thing this little boy had?"

Charles shook his head left and right with a bitter smile, like a master considering the mistales of their disciple and their lack of maturity. The difference here was that he wasn't comdemning someone else, but his self from this day only he remembered.

"I looked back on everything I had, and what it had taken to obtain it. As a magus, I am accomplished and my deeds can only be called success. But what happened to the life of the human named Charles Pendleton? The truth was that it was nowhere to be seen. I had dedicated my life to my field of research, thinking only of an end goal I would never see with my own eyes, wishing the future by sacrificing the present. In the end, all that this child will obtain when growing up, I will never have none of it either."

"...Then, do you mean that you regret your life up to this point? Is that why you want a 'second chance'?"

"No." The reply, was short, quick to come and didn't allow any rebutal. As he pronounced it Charles didn't hold any doubt as to its veracity. "I don't regret any of it. I can't. I told you, didn't I? I am a magus down to the very core, I have lived for decades as one, and it is too late to change that. I have the right mentality for it, and like a demon I cannot help but gaze coldly at this lifetime spent and see its worth. But..." At this very moment, for less than a second, the magus's voice broke ever so slightly, subtly but Laurent didn't fail to catch it. "...aren't there things even demons can regret?"

...It was a hard question to answer, if anything. Was it supposed to be rhetorical, or did the one who branded himself as a demon really expect an answer? Laurent probably couldn't give a reply that would satisfy him – he didn't have that right, he who hadn't suffered a similar loss.

But soon enough, Charles old smile came back like a ray of sunshine and his face did a complete 180°.

"There you have it, ohoho! What I want from the Grail, is an opportunity to begin anew with a different life and a different name."

"Do you really need the help of the Holy Grail for this? It sounds to me that this wish isn't so draconian that you couldn't fufill it with your own hands."

"It seems to me you have a common misconception, young man! Us magus can employ all the tricks we have at hand to rejuvenate our appearance and appear young forever. That isn't a problem at all. But we cannot take back the years lost, only their fragile and meaningless images. We can trick the masses, but we cannot hope to trick death which has lived by our side for our whole life. Surely there are magus who have managed to attain a semblance of eternity and have lived for many generations. But the means to achieve that dream...are exactly what I want to break away from. At any rate, by the time this war end, the man known as Charles Pendleton will be dead one way or another."

"..." Laurent sighed sharply and leaned back on his chair and stretched his arms behind his head as he gazed at the ceiling. "You're really worth admiring, Mr. Pendleton."

"Come again?" For the first time since they had met, Laurent beheld a genuine surprise dye the expression on his interlocutor's face. "I don't believe anything of what I told you deserves any admiration. If anything, it is quite pathetic."

"Not at all!...I don't know how to put it, but Caster and you are so very different. Yet at the same time...I really envy you for having something in mind. Something you want to live for, and the ambition to attain that very goal."

"Then, do you not have a wish for the Grail to fulfill?" Charles inquired, but he immediatly understood the ludicrousness of it. "That's right. Not that you'd be allowed to have one, would you? But even then, does nothing come to your mind?"

"Absolutely nothing. Or rather, maybe there is one thing I could wish for, but even I cannot really imagine it. The only reason I'm participating in this ritual in the first place is to look after the young mistress."

Ladylee Vasilia was the one who received the Command Seals. If anyone here should have a wish, it was her since she was genuine. Unfortunately, she wasn't even aware of the true nature of what was going on around her, let alone what consequences would result from it. The fact that she was to be a Master without comprehending it could lead to her death, the fact that her own father had pushed her on the scene while being completely aware of that, truly disgusted Laurent. Yet at the same time, he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth.

No one could as a matter of fact. Neither Charles, who looked after her benevolently, nor Archer, who was like an older sister to her, had gone to the length of enlightening her.

Probably that they all had the same little voice as Laurent, a voice that was saying: ' _Is it really necessary? She's just a young child, so why scare her with this grim reality? All that matters is that she survives, right?_ '

Laurent couldn't prove that little voice wrong. The reason he was willing to participate in a dangerous ritual such as the Holy Grail War was to protect this child whom he couldn't thank enough.

But what about himself? He didn't believe himself to be a Master more than he was a chaperon, so he hadn't thought about it. Once he came to think about himself, there was one wish that stood out in his heart, a yearning bearing the name of ' _freedom_ '. Something he never had.

"Ahhhh, I'm so irresolute I could make fun of myself. I owe the young mistress a lot, and I really want to repay her. Maybe then, being a 'slave dog' wouldn't be so bad...But I'm weak. I'm so terribly weak that I'm almost of no use here, aside from playing with the young mistress. Archer can do that too, and so much more."

For an instant, Laurent listened attentively to the sounds echoing inside theur base. In between two hits of Caster's hammer, he could catch the laughing voices of two girls on the other side of the cavern.

"You know, I've been thinking...maybe the true reason I don't get along with Archer is because she's everything I can only dream to be."

Hearing this, Charles seemed to think deeply for a moment. Laurent awaited with curiosity as to what he would say; after all, he wouldn't say no to an advice.

"...Like a woman, for exemple?"

"Wha- NO! That absolutely wasn't included in 'everything'! You know that very well!"

"Ohohohoho!"

"Hmph! And here I was being serious...you're just as whimsical as Caster in your own way. With so many similarities it's no wonder you summoned him."

Laurent sulkily delivered these parting words and proceeded to stand up with visible annoyance. That was only to make Charles feel bad though – the adolescent boy was secretely thankful on the inside. It was true he didn't get as far in the conversation as he would have prefered, but the old man's insistance on making him laugh wasn't without effect. It felt...like he let go of a weight, or at least that he was sharing it with someone now.

"Well then, I guess it is also about time I move from this accursed chair." Charles placed his hands against his thights and pushed himself off his seat before dusting his refined clothes.

"You're not staying here longer to think? Your thinking spot will become useless if there's nobody sitting there."

"Oh, but on the contrary: a thinking spot is only useful if you eventually move away from it." Charles grinned confidently. "That is because if you're going to lose yourself in thoughts, then you must follow it with actions once you've found your solution. One who doesn't act after pondering and brooding isn't thinking; they're just dwelling on the past!"

"...I'll try thinking about those words." Laurent muttered.

"Don't force yourself, this is just an old man's senseless words! Ohoho!"

Together, they walked away from the wooden chairs set up here by Charles (in the end, Laurent still had no idea where they came from) to join the others in their childish banters. Most assuredly, it was better for the moral than the discussion they just had. They walked by Caster who was doing was he always did, without ever slowing down or stopping. Laurent was seeing him in a new light after everything that happened just now. But he didn't want to think about it now. His only wish for the present was to take a good nap.

However...that wasn't going to be granted to him.

 _ *** Umineko – rahu goldenslaughterer**_

Right as they were making their way toward the large fire next to which Archer and Ladylee were installed, a high-pitched piercing sound resounded directly inside Laurent's head. He wasn't the only one, for Charles' expression suddenly clouded and he belowed:

"It's the alarm! Someone crossed the detectors Caster has set up: we're under attack!" Promptly, the magus turned to look at his Servant. "Caster!"

"Hm." Caster closed his eyes to answer the silent order. "Thirty, fifty...No, there's a lot more than that. That's more than what we had to face before. Looks like they're trying to make up for their power with their number!"

As he made his analysis, the Servant of Magecraft dematerialized his blacksmith apron to replace it with a light silver-colored armor which mainly covered his torso, as his legs were already made of steel. The same process went for his smithing hammer, which he switched for a double-edged sword that was half his size. It was a different weapon than the one he had been working on a minute ago, a claymore with a rather plain design but clearly a weapon of high quality.

"I can set up a few barrier to slow them down, but confrontation is inevitable. Archer, if you would-..."

He was about to ask Archer to head to battle with him, but he was to slow a the other Red Servant had already left the cave and set out to meet the enemy troops. Seeing no point in further debate, Caster decided to imitate her immediatly and with a single dash that couldn't be imitated by human means, he exited the Red Faction's temporary base and mowed switly through the snow-ladden mountains.

On her side, Archer had already arrived at destination and was looking down on the myriad of shapes climbing the cliffs and moving through the rocky paths with precipitation. In one hand, she held a peculiar weapon that looked like a wooden sword but with its edge covered on sharp white teeth. In the other, she was handling a promitive-looking stone hatchet. And on her face, she bore an unparalleled smirk that spoke of her enthusiasm.

"Hhmm~, hhmmm~! Look who decided to show their face at last! Playing with kids is all kind of fun..." She tightened her grasp around her weapons. "But impudent brats are even more entertaining!"

* * *

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _Hey, everyone, it's been a while. A chapter which took longer to come out than it should because of exams (I'm finally out of highschool) and because I rewrote the prologue of Tarasque. Speaking of which, I'd advise reading the latter now that it's been revisited – there might be a few changes that'll interest you._

 _I also have to say I'm deeply sorry for the lack of action in this chapter. Until now, all arks had had a peaceful chapter that set up the context while the rest were packed with action. This time was supposed to be the same, except in the end I only wrote half of what I had originally intended for the chapter. See all the segment from the snowball battle to the end? Yes, the one that is the core of the chapter. Well, it was supposed to be only a small part of it._

 _But what can I say? Character devlopment happened and this is the punishment for being too prolific. Or for not being able to predict how much I'll write, either way._

 _Still, I hope that you apreciated this chapter as it is suite heavy in character development._

 _Once again, thank you for reading! Don't hesitate to comment, review or ak a question!_

 _~Legends Storyteller_


	19. Chapter XVII: Mousetrap

_Hello everybody, welcome in this new chapter of Fate/Rongodamiant! But before anything there are a few things that needs to be said before the chapter begins._

 _First of all, the reason this chapter is coming out after so much time is because I've been rewriting chapter I from beginning to end; this effectively took quite a lot of time. It really is worth re-reading it though, considering the difference in quality between the original and the rewrite in like day and night. Even if you already know what happens I think you're in for a few surprises._

 _Second, I've now started college. So far my daily quota wasn't hindered but I can't tell for the future. It's not like I have a deadline or anything but I guess it's good to know._

 _Finally, to get back to the story, something I forgot to mention in the last chapter is that the scenes with the Red Faction and the ones with the Black Faction **were not taking place at the same time**. For exemple, the scene when the Black Faction enters the mountains happens long before the end of chapter XVI. This is something that I think you needed to know in order to not be confused by this chapter._

 _Now that all is said and done, here are the songs for this chapter!_

 _ *** Rose Guns Days – Peace Eases**_

 _ *** Umineko – Battlefield**_

 _ *** Umineko – Patchwork Chimera**_

 _ *** Umineko – Life**_

 _ *** Higanbana – There shouldn't be anyone there**_

* * *

 _ *** Rose Guns Days – Peace Eases**_

The sun had long since lowered in the sky and disappeared behind the horizon. Even the wind, who could blow violently all day, seemed to have gone to bed with the rest of the world. In the end, all that remained for the eyes to see were the black rook of the firmament and the stars that riddled it. And all that remained for the ears to hear was a quiet crackling noise, the only sound that dared defying the silence of the mountains.

It was like a little song being hummed, the melody of something liquid boiling in a container accompanied by the smell of food. Granted that smell wasn't the greatest but it was nonetheless a refreshing fragrance that dispelled the continuous scent of rocks and snow which had become monotonous by now.

"That's one strange meal you're preparing, Master." Lancer of Black commented as she was kneeling next to Ewald, looking curiously at the circular movement of his hands. "It looks like some kind of soup, but not quite liquid. Is this a dish from your country?"

"...Yes and no, I guess..." Was his cryptic answer.

"What is that supposed to mean? Is it or is it not?"

"It's not part of any real culture, but it's definitely part of my own. I learnt it back there...well, I guess it's not a real dish so 'learning' it isn't quite hard."

Indeed, the pot in front of him was filled with what could only be called a mash, a paste of some sort with a weird brownish color. It hardly qualified as a dish considering it didn't require any particular ingredients and had less than four steps to follow. One only needed clean foodstuff that could already be eaten as-is, and mix it all together into one single fare so that it could be swallowed faster than a regular meal.

"Wait, do you mean you're just putting whatever you find into that pot." Lancer's face colored with skepticism, and she grimaced at the brownish mash that was bubbling right in front of her. "Not to sound like a picky eater, but are you sure this is edible?"

"Sorry, I don't think I can't match the feasts you had at your castle." Ewald replied in an all-too-neutral tone which hardly carried his intentions.

Was he seriously apologizing, or was he sulking and taking a jab at her? The former wouldn't be unexpected considering how her Master was. Yet on the moment he spoke Lancer heard it at the latter, and she was surprised for a second. How frustrating it was to be unable to understand a person's intention! Lancer had never thought it could be so inconvenient when your interlocutor didn't put any emotion in their voice; now she knew it made a world of a difference.

Because if she couldn't guess what he was trying to conveye, then how was she supposed to answer?

...

"H-hey, I said I wasn't a picky eater!" In the end, she decided to react in accordance to her initial impression. "I'm being serious here, are you sure this...meal isn't going to poison us all!?"

"Hmmm..." Ewald seemed to seriously consider the question. "I'd way it might very well poison us."

"Huh? Wait, are you serious?!" She was actually taken aback; she had expected anything but that!

"Hm-hm." Her Master nodded, almost exaggeratedly. "Yes, there's a fifty-fifty chance we end up nauseous, very quickly at that. But you're a Servant, so I'm sure you'll get away with only a severe stomach ache."

"I'm not eating it at all! Not with everything you've just told me!" She cried and stepped away from the accursed food.

Ewald watched her without moving for a couple seconds, moved his gaze to the mysterious mesh still boiling in its kettle, then turned his head back to Lancer. And finally, he took the course of action Lancer would have the least expected: he grabbed the pot of food and lifted in his Servant's direction, more particularly toward her face.

"W-what are you doing?!"

She took several steps back, but her Master followed with the deadly tool aimed at her.

"Come on, take a bite. We'll probably be wrigling on the floor and moaning in pain, but I'm sure you'll be alright, Lancer." That dipassionate voice of his made his statement quite scary actually.

"I said stop it! I don't want..." Lancer was putting her hands in front of her mouth desperately, torn between her fear of the poisonous paste and the fact she couldn't harm her Master. Then, she was struck by a strange realization. "Wait, Master you...you wouldn't happen to be ridiculing me, are you?!"

"Yes, completely."

"You even admitted it outright..."

Of course, Ewald's acting was so forced she should have guessed immediatly he was kidding her! How could she have fallen in this trap...hm, indeed, how? Thinking about it, she had never even conceived the possibility of this Master of hers being able to tease somebody. In fact, she was positively flabbergasted right now.

"So you're actually capable of joking...I didn't think you were capable of it...I mean...!" She stopped herself short; that was probably not a very sensible thing to say, was it?

But as usual, her comment received no visible reaction from Ewald – without so much as a flinch disturbing his poker face, he proceeded to put the pot of mesh back to its rightful place on an electrical heater (they too high and the air was too damp to light a fire here after all).

"This wasn't really a joke..." He said, crouching again to toss his dish slowly.

"Wait, was it or was it not...?" This question had a feel of déjà vu. "Please don't toy with my food like that."

"No, I wasn't serious when I said it's poisonous. It's made from aliments we're supposed to eat in the first place, so there's no reason for it to be nocious. But...how do I say that?" He listed his gaze toward his Servant who was once again by his side. "When you make a joke, don't you feel something special? Since you're saying something you normally wouldn't, don't you feel different on the inside? I wouldn't know. I didn't feel any different from when I'm serious; I never do. So is it a joke or not?"

"..."

That was a hard question for sure. Did Lancer feel any different when making jokes? Well, not that she made enough of those in general to make a survey, but wasn't it something you did without thinking too much about it? Whether one would feel excited or simply disdainful when fooling some else depended on the person. A joke was a joke, no matter the emotions of the joker.

All in all, the strangest about this question was that it was a question to begin with. Rather...

"Then why did you do it?"

"Why..." He looked at the ground as though the answer would be written there; it wasn't, as a matter of course, and his eyes rolled back to the dinner. "There's no reason, probably. I said it: it's the same inside my chest no matter if I'm being serious or if I'm not. If there's no result, then there's no cause either."

"You're lying."

"!"

Lancer sighed exasperatedly, and after kneeling down as to be on the same height as her Master, she held out her hands and seized the latter's face; she forced him to turn his head so that he could only look at her. With her strength as a Servant any resistance would be futile, but even then she didn't encounter any – Ewald was visibly surprised but he probably couldn't conceive that Lancer would hurt him. This show of trust was touching, but it wouldn't change what she was about to say.

"There are already many things about you that I feel like complaining about, Master, but being a liar isn't one of them. But you just lied, didn't you? If really you were being honest then I'll apologize, but I don't believe I'll have to. You're not an idiot either (albeit a bit childish) so surely you realize what you're saying makes no sense?"

"...What...do you mean? If I don't get anything from telling a joke, then it was only a whim. How does that-"

"That's only a half-baked excuse!" She interrupted him – that he was trying to look away from her made his reply sound quite feeble. "You never have whims, Master. Don't think you can fool me now of all times! Even if you take pleasure in doing it, it doesn't change the fact that you went out of your way to do it, does it? You decided to do it."

"And what if I did? I don't get why you're angry at me just for a joke..."

"I'm not mad because of the joke, you blokehead." Lancer pinched Ewald's cheeks. Maybe she _was_ still mad about the joke after all. "I'm mad because you're being stubborn in lying to me. I said it, didn't I? Your honesty is one of the few things I admire about you, no matter how blunt it is, so of course I'll be pissed if you're being evasive. At any rate, you did decide to make your tasteless joke right?" She pinched his cheeks further.

"..." He was silent a moment; she wondered if he didn't learn his lesson, when he finally let out a small: "Yesh, I dwid. Shtop pwinching ma cheeks."

"Good, at least you admit it, we're making progress! So tell me, why did you do it? And don't lie! If you try I'll pinch you so hard you won't even be able to eat that mesh of yours!"

"...I don't need my jaw muscles to eat mesh- Ow ow, I getch it, pleaje shtop."

"That was my last warning." Lancer's threat was backing by a glare of annoyance; it was so unlike him to be so round-about she was actually getting impatient. Even her dense Master understood that and surrendered.

"I did it because it makes you mad. I have a hard time understanding how others are feeling, so tomake up for it I'm very observant of how people acts and what makes them ticks. I am not blind so I can tell when people switch from one emotions to another."

"But what does this have to do with me?"

"Lancer, you...you always wear an armor on your face."

"Huh? What is that even supposed to mean? You clearly saw me in my battle gears before; did you ever see a helmet of sort?"

"No, your face is never covered by anything...but even then you can't help wearing that same armor." To illustrate his point, Ewald twisted his facial muscles into an expression that was probably meant to be frigid and authoritative, but he was trying so hard it actually came off as comedic, enough that Lancer puffed slightly. "You're wearing that face whenever you can, and you never look happy."

"H-hey now, I'll have you know this is my default face...! And in the first place, I am a valkyrie and a queen! It is only normal that I have to keep my countenance at all times!"

"But when I do something you don't like and push it further, you get really mad at me."

"Can't argue with that." She was holding him by the cheeks for a reason. "In fact, that can be very stressful so please don't tell me you enjoy abusing my patience."

"..."

"...You do, don't you?"

"No, I told you I don't feel anything. But...if I do that, you armor erodes and you do a different kind of face. Just now, when you reeaaaally didn't want to taste my mesh, you made an expression I had never seen you do before. And I thought it was interesting. I wanted to see you make these weird faces. I wanted you to make them as often as possible."

"Eh...?"

Lancer didn't know what to say nor what to think – she wasn't even holding his face anymore strengthfully, she was simply touching it. Her Master just said the strangest thing ever. She was a Servant, she had decided she would limit herself to this role and not bother with what kind of person her Master was. Ewald was always straight-to-the-point and didn't seem the type to care about other people. He wasn't a busybody and he had efficiency in mind, so she thought he was perfect as a Master. She was already breaking her rule right that instant, but even so what he just said...

"Why do you want something like that?"

"...Because I think it's unfair. It's so unfair that you can make so many expressions, and yet you always stick to one. So I force you to make more of them."

' _It's unfair for me_ ' was what he meant. Lancer understood all too well what he meant by that; she should get angry, probably. His wish and hers were entirely separate matters, and he had no right to blame her for it.

"Are you...sulking, Master?" Yet that was the only thought in her mind on the moment, as she stared at him wide-eyed and mouth agape. The next instant, she burst into laughter. "Hahahahahahahaha! Haha! Then you're – haha! - you're teasing me because you're pouting?! Hahaha!"

"I'm...it's not...uh?"

Ewald was staring back, his face entirely recolored by surprise. Thinking about it, it was a real change compared to his usual undaunted expression; that served him right. Not that he could be blamed for being taken off-guard; Lancer probably shouldn't be laughing right now considering the matter at hand was pretty heavy, but she couldn't help it. At the end of the day, Ewald Wachhund's motivation was jeaslousy of some sort, but the way he was taking revanche was so silly and round-about that it sounded childish, not necessarily in a bad way.

"I'm not sulking..." Ewald muttured, but once again he sounded like a child in denial. "Are you done lecturing me now?"

"Huh? Ah, sorry, you may go." Although she already wasn't restraining him anymore, Lancer took her hands off her Master's face and stood up to stretch her legs and arms. "I guess it was worth lying as well then."

She was speaking toherself when she said that, but she should have done so at a lower volume. Ewald unavoidably heard it, and his face was painted over with curiosity and perplexity.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Er...well, to be honest I wasn't really mad at you, Master." Not at the beginning at least. "Did you really think I'd be angry because you told a small lie? Eveyone say lies from time to time, even poeple we wished were sincere with us."

"But...but...then why?" His hands went to the red marks on his cheeks, scars that sung of the horrible torture of Lancer's grasp. "It hurt so much..."

"Ah...(I really hurt him, didn't I?)." Maybe more than on the outside since he was giving her betrayed puppy eyes. "Sorry, I just...wanted to know the truth so I pretented to get mad at you...Are you actually angry, Master?"

"Does that mean..."

"Hm?"

"...does that mean you made a joke as well?"

"Ah..."

So that was what he was concerned about. Lancer thought maybe she should tell him she did get a little pissed near the end, but what was the point? Instead, why not being more simple and honest.

"I guess I did...Hehe."

After this strange and sudden game of jokes between them was done, it was about time they ate dinner. In other words, Ewald's mesh which had been left to burn while Lancer was hogging his attention...well, it was probably not going to taste good anyway. She may have had a hand in it, but Lancer swore to herself she wouldn't eat his cooking ever again, even if her life depended on it.

But...

For some reason, that dinner as a whole didn't taste too bad. She had had that feeling before, but that Master of hers really was full of surprises, wasn't he?

* * *

 **Chapter XVII: Mousetrap**

* * *

 _ *** Umineko – Battlefield**_

Archer was perched up a cliff or sort, a rim of sort overlooking the army advancing through the snow and the teepness gracefully like felines.

It was no exaggeration to call the myriad of ennemies coming their way an army. Archer had already had a bout with them once, but even then there hadn't been such a great number of them. Rushing through the snow-ladden moutains to meet with the legion of familiars, the Servant wouldn't count them all with her eyes alone, and had to resort to her magical sense to detect the amount of figures moving across what had now become a true battlefield.

And the result weren't good.

There were easily several hundreds of them – while that number wasn't impressive for an actual army, in this area all paths were steep at best and left little room to move around in general. In the first place, since they were in high altitude it there was simply less space to begin with: as a result, it was easy for such a number of soldiers to block off all exits and try to swarm them.

There were several kinds of familiars: the most numerous were quadruped creatures that looked closer to skeletons than to organic beings. They were around the same size as a dog, and even their shape was reminiscent of one aside from a few details. Firstly, their 'head' was nothing canine and looked like a giant eye, which it probably was. Secondly, their body was extremely thins and emaciated, hence their ressemblance with skeletons.

Aside from these dog-like familiars, Archer noted a few which were simply larger versions, some bird-like creatures and golems. All of them probably carried different roles; some were fast, some were strong, some were agile...

But honestly they were just trying to cover up or their weakness.

Archer had done quite a bit of magecraft in her life, enough to be eligible for the Caster class – she could tell at first glance those familiars were made with their cost in mind. They were meant to be mass-produced, so they were probably weak. It was also an indication that their maker didn't couldn't create an infinite amount of them. They might even not be directly controlled and were simply given orders they would execute mindlessly. Still, as she had noticed beforehand they were in excellent position to overwhelm them with number alone.

"They might even be made especially to move around mountainous regions. Oh well, not that it matters at all. Now now, come and meet uncle Archer, she's gonna turn you into the corpses you were designed to be!"

Archer's observations held little weight tactically speaking anyway; she had never been a soldier, let alone a general who was capable of evaluating the situation. She was just a fisherman capable of putting up a good fight, so she'd do just that and leave the thinking to her allies.

Having decided that, she lept off the elevated ledge she had been observing their movements from and high into the sky. She chose to leave the aiborne familiars alone. As Archer, she could easily take care of them but then she'd let too many grounded enemies slip through. She'd simply let Caster take care of them.

She landed heavily right in front of the mass of creatures advancing upward toward the plateau. There were probably a few who already got past her, but she had no worry in that regard – her mind were occupied by other thoughts, namely have a lot of fun destroying them.

As soon as her feet made contact with the floor, a battalion's worth of eyeballs switched their attention to her and stared at her without blinking. It was only for less than a second though, enough time to assert their guest's identity, and they proceeded to charge her in group just like beasts without any semblance tactic or reason.

The first to reach her were three of the smaller dog familiars, who jumped at her rather than staying on the ground – probably to impede her movements. At this occasion Archer noticed their claws were nothing animal-like and were the size of kitchen knives. They were still killing machines in the end, and their specs had to be superior to wild beasts.

But...

 _WHOOSH!_

It didn't matter at all against Archer.

In one swift movement, she slashed across the air with her machete and the three familiars cleanely sliced bodies fell pathetically on the ground.

Although it was called a machete, Archer's sword didn't have a blade made of metal but was a simple wooden sword with shark teeth all along the edge; if one wanted to make a comparison, it was similar in aspect and in use to a macuahuitl. In other words, it was a weapon meant to cut more through flesh and less through bones – which didn't change a thing in Archer's hands.

The Servant had so much strength stored in her arms that she might as well have a sharp blade, and the thinness of the familiar's body didn't help them much in that regard. As the three ennemies were eliminated, she already wasn't paying attention to them and was looking at the horde beyond.

In contrast to the mere three attackers, the next wave was composed of dozens of familiars of all kinds. Archer raised her two weapons in front of her, ready to take on the stream of bony dogs rushing over her, when the latters suddenly took a sharp turn on their right.

"?!"

For a moment Archer thought they were trying to get around her, and her guess wasn't off. Only, they weren't trying to slip past her but to overwhelm her on her left side! As to why they were doing that, it was probably because they had understood she wouldn't be easily defeated already: the path Archer was standing on right now had more length than it had width, and on her right was the end of the cliff. Below there was only empty space and a slope so steep and riddle with rocks it was nigh impossible to move freely about.

Then, what should she do? She didn't mind taking up the challenge but that meant moving the battle somewhere else, and she was supposed to guard this place.

"I guess there's no choice then." Archer shrugged. She grasped the stone axe in her right hand tightly, so much that all her arm's muscles stiffened and bulged at once, and she readied her counter-attack. What she was facing was a tide of monsters using their strength combined in one powerful motion to push her down. To fight back against that, all she needed was even more power than them. " _Hyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!_ "

The surge of dog familiars was right in front of her by the time she let out amyghty warcry, threatening to swallow her up. Archer brought her stone axe down on the very ground she and the familiars were standing on.

The impact was like a explosion – the axe that was used as a hammer met the rocky soil with a loud noise before sound was knocked away as well. The sheer impact alone was enough to push back the wave of opponents closing in on Archer; they were sent flying in every directions like rag dolls being tossed around. However that wasn't the only consequence of Archer's ruthlessness: had they been fighting on a plain or on one of the plateaus higher up in the mountain, the impressive blow would have likely left only a large impact. But here on the mountain's side, it was utterly smashed to pieces.

As soon as her swung made contact with the ground below, the latter colapsed under her feet while a massive cloud of dust, dirt and snow was kicked up and danced around the air.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Maybe I used a little too much strength there!"

She still managed to get away before falling down with the crumbling mountain side though. Well, not that she would have fallen anyway, that was unthinkable for her. Upon emerging from the flying dust and snow, she resumed a higher position to assert the extent of the damages.

The mountain path she had been defending so far had all but fallen to pieces – the impact of Archer's axe had smashed away a good chunk of the ground, and surrounding soil had followed it down the slope. Now there was a gaping hole between her position and the enemy's, wide enough that normal people couldn't hope to cross it even by jumping. Looking at the remnants of the battalion on the other side, Archer considered she had done a good job.

"Now at least they can't get through here! Although I'd rather destroy them all... Eh? Wait, what are you doing?!"

Her wish was granted in a way: the footsoldiers on the other side of the rift only hesitated for a few seconds, before the golems which hadn't tried to attack her up 'til now stepped forward and stood in front of the chasm. Archer didn't even have the time to understand what they were trying to do that one of the golem's body started to _melt all of sudden_. The melting stone and metal flowed down the edge of the hole she had created, and then started hardening just as suddenly. This action was repeated by the next golem and the one after this, and so on.

The hole was slowly being refilled and a bridge was being created.

"Damn, is that their true purpose?! Wait a minute you bastard!"

She couldn't just stand there and wait for them to finish their work. Without losing any more time, Archer raised her stone axe above her head and threw it toward the golems like a hatchet. Of course, it was faster and held more destructive power than a somple hatchet; acting like a blunt weapon, the stone axe broke through the first golem with ease, and kept on claiming victims until it embedded itself into a fourth golem. It helped that they were all more or less standing in line, that way Archer's brute strength could be used efficiently.

However she should have acted slightly earlier – the golem bridge had only covered a thrid of the distance between them, but it was more than enough for the rest of the familiars. The first to jump were four of the larger dog-like familiars; unlike the smaller one that were the size of hunting dogs, those were as big as horses and their claws were also consequently larger. In the end though, it only meant she had to put a teensy-weensy more strength to slice through them.

When the first big doggy lept at her and swung down its massive claws, she effortlessly evaded the attack by stepping forward and she ended up just below the large skeleton-like body. As expected, they weren't all that sturdier than their small counterparts seeing how easily and quickly Archer diced it with her machete.

Next she was assaulted by two of them at the same time, both from different angles. It would be hard to avoid both this time-

 _CLANG!_

So the best solution was to parry both. Archer met the claws on her left with her machete, whereas for the familiar on her right she simply caught its forearm with her bare hand before its sharp claws could even hope to scratch her. Without losing a second, she ripped the leg off with a sound sickeningly close to that of actual bones breaking – the familiar didn't have the time to break away that its former limb was turned against it like an improvised club.

 _CRACK!_

Now that one of them was dealt with, onto the other!

Now that she had both her hands free, Archer used them together; her machete worked kinda like a seesaw in the first place anyway: with the strength of both of her arms, she managed to cut right through the metal claw as though they were made of wood, and the creature's head followed immediatly after.

"And three! But where's my fourth customer...?"

The fourth large monster had completely disappeared from sight. He was neither in front nor behind Archer, and yet he shouldn't have had the time to get away. She didn't really have the time to worry about this however, for the next wave was coming right up – by the time she had finished off the three familiars, the few remaining golem completed up to two third of their makeshift bridge, and the rest of the familiars could cross again at last.

Even though she had destroyed a good number of them already, there seemed to be twice as many waiting to duck it out. Was there a factory producing them nearby or what?!

"At any rate." Archer had rematerialized her stone axe in her right hand. "It's not like there were any other plans to begin with, so let's just finish up the work, shall we."

This time it was much simpler: brute force against number. The army of familiars was like a swarm of locust trying to devour her by submerging her, whereas Archer was a force of nature that nothing seemed to be able to halt. The ensuing battle against the remaining familiars was nothing more than repetition of the same actions over and over: slice and smash, slice and smash, slice and smash, slice and smash, slice and smash, slice and smash, slice and smash, slice and smash, slice and smash, slice and smash, slice and smash, slice and...

Ah, no, it seemed she was only using her fists now. She wasn't paying that much attention in the heat of the battle but she dropped her sword and axe at some point and was now fighting with her knucles and her legs alone against the legion of claws and stone. It didn't make any difference really, except that now she only had one action to repeat: smash, smash, smash, smash, smash, smash, smash, again and again. Sometimes she had to dodge, sometimes she would parry but then once again she would reduce everything to smithereens like a buldozer gone crazy. Wherever she swung her clenched fist, something would be sent flying or would be broken apart with so much power the aftershock would make Archer's ears ring.

Her fighting style had all the classiness of a drunk brawler in a bar, but she made up for it with terrifying efficiency.

Smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash and smash–

* * *

Caster of Red didn't follow after Archer in the end. He deemed there was no need to as she was more than capable of repelling an army on her own – she was supposed to be their side's strongest Servant with Saber after all. The enemy's plan was visibly to entrap them by attacking from different fronts, so they had to answer in kind and halt their advance no matter where they came from.

There weren't that many ways to get to their position in the first place, and thanks to Caster's barrier the latter could tell where the familiars were coming from. The enemy's plan was visibly to entrap them by attacking from different fronts, so it was only obvious thye had to answer in kind by crushing them even when surrounded...or so it was supposed to look like.

It was hard to believe this large scale attack was an act of desperation, so it was more likely that the assault was planned and meticulously schemed. It was also better not to expect their foes to be stupid enough to believe they could defeat them with numer only. In any case, this offensive must have had a clear objective.

If they were using a diversion to get away, it was quite efficient but then it would be quite short to hope to get far enough away that the Red Faction couldn't catch up to them. And if they had a mean of travelling at high speed from the beginning, it would have made more sense to use it earlier.

But that was still a grey zone, so that was mostly Caster's gut feeling.

And if that wasn't a diversion, then it was a real raid and maximum caution was requiered of the Red Faction in order to survive. There was still no sign of Servants leaving their fortress, so there had to be a trick. And since their bottom line was a huge question mark, they couldn't afford to play the enemy's game.

Archer pretty much headed out because she was iching for a fight, but as far as Caster was concerned they had to earn some time for their Masters could escape; trying to hold their position was probably in line with whatever the opposing side was planning.

They had expected that such a situation could happen however, and they had secured another path beforehand and set up protections meant to slow down any potential invasion. In a way, they had turned this mountain itself into their own fortress, and Caster was in charage of protection so he had to head out for the battlefield as well.

"This woman..." He sighed as he could hear the sound of Archer's destruction even from where he was. "She's supposed to be an Archer but fights like a Berserker. Well, I guess I'm in no position to criticize her." He commented while glancing at the sword in his hand.

It was a different sword than the one he had been working on, and it had a much simpler designed that seeked efficiency only. But it was still a sword forged by the legendary blacksmith Völundr, and as such it was nothing short of an excellent blade that could be used even by great heroes.

"Hmph, here they come."

Looking ahead of him, down at the bottom of the plateau he was defending, Caster saw a multitude of shapes emerge at verious speed. The sight itself was similar to what Archer had beheld on theother side of the mountain, so there was no need to elaborate it. On the other hand, because the plateau was of course much wider than the path Archer was guarding and with less obstacles. Consequently the familiars had more than enough space to move about and they spread across the highland with frightening speed like a swarm of locusts.

Trying to take them out individually without letting any of them slip through his guard would like displacing a river by with only your hands now. It didn't matter much though, since Caster wasn't a full-on melee warrior like Archer ironically was. Since he was a Caster, it was with magecraft he'd have to battle.

"Very well, mindless beasts, come closer and taste the impatience of someone who has better things to do."

The army had progressed halfway through the snowy plain when Caster raised his free arm in front of him and let his prana flow through his body, concentrating it on teh ground below the familiars' feet.

"Hmmmm!"

Without a single incantation, his spell – or rather spell _s_ – activated at his command. At once, the area covered in skeleton dogs and golems erupted in a sea of flames which recolored the monochromatic white of the landscape with a bright fiery red. The flames were powerful enough that the smaller familiars were burnt to ashes without trace and the bigger ones crumbled into piles of coal. It was much less effective on the golems since they were essentially big bundles of rock; the surface of their massive bodies was badly burnt but they didn't even flinch and kept advancing with robotic movements.

For the records, the magecraft used by Caster wasn't a large scale spell or anything of the sort. It was actually more practical and better suited for a battlefield: simply put, the enemies were moving through a magical minefield. The idea was suggested by the young Laurent of all people – the only kind of magecraft Caster had access to was runes, or more precisely Primeval Runes, the strongest and oldest kind. Because they were quite potent, he didn't need an incantation of any sort and his runes could be remotely activated, so he only needed to draw them all across the desired area and he could activate them later.

Actually making this pseudo-minefield took quite a lot of time in truth. A Servant needed less time than average humans, however Caster wasn't exactally an even-tempered and patient man, and he'd rather be working on this sword Noble Phantasm of his. Nonetheless, he had to admit it came in quite handy to save time in the long run.

But since he was only remotely activating his _Ansuz_ runes and couldn't actually aim precisely, some were bound to escape the roasting flames and make it through Caster's main defense line. This fact had also been accounted of course, and that was the reason the long-bearded man was carrying a sword around.

Most of the familiars who got through changed their course slight and targeted Caster who was ready and waiting for them.

"Hn, to come at me so readily, wanting to kill me, aren't you underestimating me here? Or do you believe those who make weapons cannot wield them?!"

He didn't wait for them to reach him and darted forward like a lightning bolt, blade first. Maybe that wasn't part of the familiars' expectation because the latters tried to halt their course abruptly, all too late for them unfortunately. Caster didn't even bother to swing his sword at the first monsters on his path, he simply stomped through them with his legs of metal. The ground and the familiars were demolished indiscriminately, for not only did he have a tremendous strength befitting his muscular body, but his physical abilities were also greatly enhanced by his runes.

Speed, strength, hardness, eyesight – you name it. Caster was blacksmith, not a fighter. But if he couldn't hope to match the martial prowess of a skilled warrior, he was more than capable of matching their specs and destructive power.

Having pierced through the first line of the very thinned army of familiars, the blacksmith swung his blade horizontally in a sweeping motion; every creatures that had the misfortune of being in front of him were blown away and danced in the air an instant before falling to the ground in pieces. Even the larger familiars opposed little resistance to his rune-enhanced titanic strength, if any.

Seeing they had no chance of survival against him, the remaining familiars changed their course of action and tried to leave the plateau while he was busy destroying their kin. But when he saw the smallish shape run past him as fast as possible, Caster didn't even try to stop them.

"Who ever gave you permission to leave this place."

And indeed, as soon as they reached the end of the highland and were about to step out, the lot of them were immediatly repelled by an invisible force that pushed them back into the arena. Suddenly, all around the plateau that was under Caster's protection, runes appeared on the snow and formed a gigantic circle with Caster and the familiars trapped inside it.

"Useless, it's all useless, familiars. For the likes of you this Bounded Field is an absolute wall you cannot hope to cross, whereas I am the absolute death awaiting you. To come at me now or wait for me to kill you, which one do you prefer?!" Caster solemnly proclaimed as his sword cut a badly burnt golem in two. But before he could put his threats to execution, he noticed the sadows flying over his head and sighed. "Hm? There are also airborne ones?"

Among the opponents trapped within his Bounded Field there were also some who were bird shape and around the size of falcons. Just like those crawling on the ground, these bird only had eyes for heads, and those were all staring at Caster. But they weren't going to come pounding on him – the Servant could feel the magical energy about to be fired in his direction, and had step away rom his current victims to dodge the blast of prana.

However there were no difficulties beyond that, as Caster could answer in kind: raising his hand in the air, symbols corresponding to the _Ansuz_ rune appeared in front of him before turning to red fire and shooting in direction of the bird familiars who suffered the same fate as their quadruped comrads.

"That takes care of it. Now, I think this left you enough time to decide, didn't it?" He told the familiars who had tried to escape.

He highly doubted they could understand him, but nonetheless they stepped forward and rushed at him with claws first. They were the only one left, so it was probably some kind of survival instinct kicking in. But the result would be the same.

"Useless." This ruthless word left Caster's mouth at the same time his sword was swung down.

 _ *** Stop music**_

* * *

On the other side of the mountain, the battle between the fisherman and the familiars was short-lived as well. Because she stopped thinking during the brawl she wasn't sure how much time had gone by, but all in all ite hardly went on for longer than a minute and a half. This couldn't be helped though: her opponents didn't stand the ghost of a chance from the beginning anyway, and to sum up it could be likened to mowing the lawn – pretty boring and more challenging for the nerves than for your life.

And by the time she realized it, she was the last man standing in a field of diverse pieces of rubble as she swung her fist in the empty air.

"Whoops, I overdid it didn't I~? Maaaan, that felt good unwinding for real! It feels like I haven't had a good brawl for thousands of year! Oh, wait, it _has_ been thousands of year! Whahahahahahahahaha! No but seriously, there's no one left? Really? Aww..."

There was no sign of any other opponent to face here; Archer had decimated the forces trying to cross through this path. They were probably not all the enemy's army amounted to – since Caster didn't come to give her a hand, he must have been busy with the rest. Or did he consider she didn't need any help and sat his butt in front of his anvil again? Not that he's be wrong but, so much for being teammates, right? Maybe she ought to return the favor one of these days.

"At any rate..." She stretched her arms covered in dust and dirt, before lowering her gaze at the broken bone-like remains and the bits and chunk of rock laying across the path, half- sunken in the snow. "Even if they had confidence in their number, they've got to be pretty dumb to think that could beat us in any way. Now, what should I do? The sun's still high in the sky, so maybe I could do some sun-basking!...just kidding, let's meet up with Lily and the slave dog."

She had no more duty here anyway, so Archer was about to leave for the escape route they had prepared when something caught her attention. It was nothing really: amongst the remains spread chaotically around her, she spotted one of these big eyes that served as the familiars' head, which was staring in her general direction. She found it amusing, but also upseting how it was blankly looking at her, unblinking.

"What, do you have any business with me? Or are you mad because I killed the bunch of you? Wait, do you guys even have a brain?"

 _Clank!_

"Huh?"

Against all expectations, she received an answer in the form of a small metallic noise which came from something right at her feet. When she looked down, she saw a set of big claws that belonged to one of the familiars she had slain. Oh, she must have stepped on it or something. Wait...

But she didn't move at al-

 _SLASH!_

 _ *** Umineko – Patchwork chimera**_

Just as she was looking at it with suspicion, the claws had a sudden violent jerk and came down, stabbing her foot in several places. It had happened so abruptly, and it had been so close to her Archer didn't have the time to move her foot out of harm's way. As soon as she felt the pain and understood what had transpired, she shook the claw away with a swift swing of her leg.

"You little...! How...these things aren't dead!?"

She should have realized earlier; those familiars weren't any kind of organic creatures, so it was hard to write them off as dead just because they lost haf their body. Golems were another matter entirely since they needed their physical integrity to keep moving, but those dog-like familiars were entirely unknown to Archer. They has no visible nervous system, so many they could keep moving even after being crushed.

And they were light... _shit!_

A suddenly chill went down Archer's spine, and even down her whole body, when she heard similar metallic noises all round her. The familiars, small and marge alike, were standing back up the best they could like an army of undead, and without losing a second they all blitzed toward her claws first to dig in her flesh. Even the eye that had caught Archer's interest earlier had some sort of teeth erupt from within and sprang at her with unexpected agility.

This time around Archer perfectly saw the threat coming, so despite the surprise ambush coming from all side she received no alarming wounds. In the other hand, a whole bunch of these monsters were latching onto her body like leeches – their claws were digging into her thighs and arms, their teeth were clutching her sides, her chest and even her neck. She was wounded all over, and covered in familiars like an army of ant crawling all over a bigger prey. That, wasn't the worst though: they were linking to each other. Like the golems had done earlier, the edges of their fragmented body melted to merge together.

(Khh, they're trying to tie me up and limit my movements!)

She couldn't be more right, as as soon as that happened another threat emerged in the form of aerial familiars suddenly showing up like daisies. So it really was an ambush. She knew from fighting them earlier, these bird-like familiars could shoot blasts of magical energy. Those were powerful enough to bypass her Magic Resistance, so she wouldn't remain unscathed in case of heavy fire.

And at the same time, she felt yet something else that made the alarms in her head sound at maximum volume. She had used her prana detection to count the number of airborne enemies, but those weren't the only one that she detected. Down the slope beside the path she was being ambushed on, on a terrain that was hardly practicable for human beings...

 _There were more of these dog-familiars crossing directly, instead of using the mountain path. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Shit!_

It wasn't just an ambush, it was a diversion! These familiars were perfect to move through the mountain, especially rough terrain! They never needed the path Archer was guarding! Even that massive attack earlier was a diversion to keep her attention onto the main contingent while the others went through safely!

And her mental connection with her Masters wasn't working either, there was probably a Bounded Field or something to prevent her from warning them.

"Ah, damn it all! We were had, they payed us like a fidle! Lily, slave dog, stay safe you two!"

But she wasn't entirely safe herself – if she didn't take care of her own problems she wouldn't go far into helping her Masters. The flock of airborne creatures were about to unleash their firepower at her, and the binding of the destroyed familiars were significantly restricting her movements, enough so that evading all attacks would prove nigh impossible. With her unmatched strength Archer could probably break out with no problem, but those weren't regular bounds: they had their claws stabbed into her body and their teeth biting into some sensible spots. Breaking free with brute force alone would only result in aggravating her physical state further.

A Servant would only die if one of their Spiritual Cores are destroyed, but they still needed a healthy physical body to fight and the more injuries they received, the harder it became to stay alive. Archer couldn't use her weapons; she had dematerialized them and since her arms were paralyzed right now it would do no good. She had no time left to come up with another solution either.

Which left her with one option only.

"I hate to admitt it, but you guys really cornered me here... **Ao-ao-ma-ra'i-a: This is my Gift to Humanity**!"

She had no choice but to use her Noble Phantasm. As soon as she called out its true name, a wave of heat and flames erupted from Archer's body and hit everything within a radius of one hundred meters, sparing nothing on its path. The familiars, regardless of whether they were flying or tied around Archer's body, were instantly burnt to ashes if not completely obliterated and vaporized. The snow in the area couldn't handle the heat and melted before evaporating in turn, and everywhere the fire reached, the surface of the mountain had become pitch black, like a sooty blotch on white porcelain.

At first sight the Noble Phantasm was very similar to the trap Caster had used to anihilate his opponents, however to an attentive observer that ressemblance only went as far as the use of a fire attack. As powerful as they may be, Caster's Runes were only magecraft in the end; they could conjure powerful fire, but that was still only fire. Archer's Noble Phantasm, **Ao-ao-ma-ra'i-a: This is my Gift to Humanity** , was different, in an almost creepy way. The way it assaulted the familiars and everything around her didn't look like a natural deflgration – it had seemed as though the fire itself was alive.

"Ha..." Finally free of her restraints, Archer allowed herself to sigh, both in relief and in frustration. "To think I had to use the great fire that can even burn the sea to destroy a bunch of weak mooks. If that's not a waste of prana I don't know what is! Anyway, I guess I have to revise my judgement of whoever planned that assault."

She had thought they were stupid and desperate, but this was actually a very thought-out plan it seemed. They had the Servants come forward with a distraction while a certain number of minions went through undetected, and even after that they had Archer lower her guard and cornered her into using one of her trump cards. In short, they were not only aiming to kill their Masters but also to gain information on their strength and weakness. Well, it was fine with Archer if they believed this all-burning flare was all there was to her Noble Phantasm.

"Uuuu, this isn't the time to thinka bout that, Lily is in danger! And the slave dog too I guess! Wait for me you two!"

Archer promptly turned into spiritual form and traveled throughthe air as fast as she could, praying with all her heart that the scene she would fall upon wasn't one of despair.

* * *

Unfortunately, just as Archer feared, the Masters of Red didn't get any luckier than her and had a significant amount of familiars catching up with them at too fast a pace to lose them. At any rate, even if they managed to leave through the exit they had prepared that wouldn't mean they were safe, so there were few options left. And surrendering wasn't one of them.

"Damned beasts, it appears as though like we've underestimated their mobility in this terrain."

Charles cursed when he heard the distinct noise of the metal claws against stone over their head, indicating their ennemies' approach in a loud dysfunctional orchestra that hurtthe ears.

Strictly speaking, there were a great many paths going up and down the sierra depending on how well you could move around – these familiars had just proved that by passing through usually unpracticable territory. But the amount of passages available to the avrage human were few, and those were being protected by their Servants. Therefore, in order for their special exit to be efficient it needed to be something unpracticable for a little girl, a young adolescent and an old man, at least in the eyes of the Masters of Black. In other words, it wasn't a pathway to begin with, but rather a rocky descent that wasn't meant to be crossed in a hurry.

They were doing quite fine however; both Laurent, who was carrying Ladylee by the way, and Charles were jumping down from rock to rock with less efforst than it should have taken them normally.

"Actually, I'm more surprised by _your_ mobility, Mr. Pendleton! No matter how old you pretend to be anymore I won't believe you! You're absorbing each fall like it's nothing!"

"I've been taking care of my body! Ohohohoho! But you aren't half-bad either, are you? I didn't know you had so much ressource in you, maybe you could have tried to land a snowball on Archer after all. Or maybe not! Ohoho!"

"Hey, I'm managing but this isn't easy, you know?! An dthose guys are seriously getting closer by the second!"

"Hm, hm, we're in a disadvantageous position it seems." They were not only faster but also more agile, so facing them in close-ranged combat, at least here on this slope was a no-go. "Then I guess the only solution is to take them down from afar. Laurent, do you happen to possess any kind of long-range weapon or ability that could help us?"

"I...could try, but not with Milady in my arms!"

"Whee! The doggies are getting faster!" Ladylee informed them with an upsettingly cheerful tone. She clearly wasn't aware of the threat those 'doggies' were representing. But then again, it was Laurent's role to make sure her dreams were broken a. k. a. To run faster.

"WaaAAaaaAAAaaaaaaaaaAAAAaaaaaAAA!" The little girl's cry of excitement hit a strange note each time Laurent's feet encountered the hard ground.

"Please Milady, close your mouth or you might swallow a fly!"

"I'm pretty sure there are no flies that high up in the mountains, young lad." The elder man corrected him. Then to Laurent's surprise he stopped climbing down the descent alltogether, and turned around to face the pack of claws coming their way. "Well, well, you youngsters keep on escaping while I take care of the matter here!"

"Huh? What are you doing!"

Laurent started to protest obviously, but while he did exactly that Charles tightened his grasp around his cane and lifted it in front of him. Immediatly, the everyday mundain accessory started to change – a small handle emerged from the upper tip, whereas the elongated wooden rod separated in two symetric parts which unfolded to form a circular segment, teh center of which was the lower tip of the cane. Both ends of this circular segment were linked together by a high-strung sting crossing the main body of the cane perpendicularly.

In other words, Charles' ancient-looking cane had turned right in front of Laurent into a beautiful crossbow with a vague reptilian design. The owner of the weapon beheld it a second with a barely hidden keenness and excitement.

"I happen to have the perfect olution to our predicament. I had Caster upgrade it even! Ohohoho! Now go on ahead and take your master with you, young man! It won't hurt to have some head start in case this old man can hold his own!"

"Tch, don't jinx it, old man!" Laurent hated to admit it, but he would probably be more of a dead weight here if he couldn't take them down from afar. That's why, sourly but surely he executed Charles' order and resume his descent down the rocky hill. "Hold on tight milady, I'll accelerate!"

"Wheeeeeeeeeee!"

Charles couldn't help a chuckle upon hearing Ladylee's out-of-place reaction, whereas he and Laurent were doing their best to hold up despite being taken off guard. It was refreshing in a way, but the elderly man didn't have a single second to lose in idle contemplation, for danger was on his doorstep. From the look of it, there could be between twent and thirty familiars, maybe more on the way.

 _ *** Umineko – Life**_

At once he plunged his hand into his coat and dug around to retrieve it holding a handful of gems. Those were quite small in truth, compared to the ones normally used in Jewelcraft, barely the size of a gravel. They would do quite nicely in this situation though; Charles' Mystic Code didn't use any old regular ammunitions but could fire magical energy itself. In this case, the gems were more like bullets.

He dropped half of the gem in his hand onto the rod, and aimed at the multitude of dog-like creatures dashing down the slope claws first to slice his throat. Whne they saw the crossbow the latters must have assumed it would fire in a straight line and started making complexe movements to avoid a hypothetical projectile.

Too bad for them.

" _Draconis autem: Stellae_!"

At the same time he pronounced his incantation, Carles pulled the trigger and the multiple gems inside the barrel flew at once through the cold air like colorful fireworks shining brightly. When they arrived only a couple meters away from their targets, instead of continuing in a straight line, the lights suddenly dispersed and exploded. It was as though Charles had fired an explosive shotgun instead of a crossbow.

The bony creatures, for one, didn't see that coming and couldn't escape the multicolor deflagration that reduced them to dust. Not to mention, since they had done a maneveur to avoid his attack in the first place they had slowed down slightly and as such a greater number than expected were caught up in the magical explosion.

However, the efficiency with which Charles had gotten rid of them had a downside to it: namely, the magus had used an explosive attack in the middle of the mountains, and on a rather steep and unstable slope. That couldn't go well obviously, and the shaking of the ground that ensued wasn't the shockwave of the explosion. All around the area of impact, Charles could see boulders of all sizes either flying in the air because of the deflagration or coming rolling down the hill with a very dangerous momentum. Get trapped under one of those would be anything but pretty; not only that, but even the boulders farther away from the blast suffered a...mack of equilibrum.

And that included the one Charles was standing on.

Getting crushed was one risk, but tripping and falling down an apalling height was another. Charles' body would allow him to do some very physical feats, but it couldn't make an undeadly landing from that high, especially considering the unevenness of the ground around these parts.

"And to add insult to injury, those boulders are faster than me, aren't they?" As he resumed his descent with as much haste as he could without threatening his life, the elderly man recognized his disadvantage. But there was a solution to every problem, as they said: he pulled out yet another gem from his coat, this one a deep blue with a star-shaped design. " _Draconis autem: Rete_!"

Charles' crossbow wasn't simply a weapon meant to fire destructive projectile. Thanks to Caster's upgrade through his **Master Blacksmith** skill it had received a boost to its sheer firepower, but originally it was made to cast spell on a long distance regardless of their original range. But the Mystic Code couldn't do it alone; if it was capable of such a feat without having the spells pre-inscribed it could be called a high-level Mystic Code. However it's role was only to increase and regulate the distance of the spell. It was the role of the 'bullets', the jewels, to carry the spell with them.

The star-shaped jewel flew in a straight line toward the rumbling boulders that were directly behind Charles. Upon contact, or rather after reaching the distance pre-arranged by the crossbow, it shone in a stronger light and expanded in all direction, until it bore an uncanny ressemblance with a net, and the boulders were stopped in their fall. That would only be a temporary remedy, but it would allow the magus to take care of his other trouble.

"Foul beasts, I see you were prepared with such an occasion in mind." He cursed for the second time.

His first attack hadn't dealt with all the familiars of course – they had been too dispersed for that to happen. And unfortunately, it seemed as though their speed and agility were reduced even with the round shaking and the mountainside falling apart around them. And their objective hadn't changed in the least in the meantime as a matter of course.

Only the smaller familiars were able to move around freely, but that was already quite dangerous on its own considering Charles didn't have that freedom. One of them, which had been closest to him from the beginning, didn't let the explosions and the rockslide distract its attention and it had closed the distance between it and a Charles doing clumsy acrobatics.

From here on there, it was more a contest of agility than power. The familiar swung its claws, aiming for Charles' head. It had been a swift and deadly movement, but for once the unstable mountainside played in the magus' favor as the boulder he was standing on suddenly moved and his balance was broken. He slipped and felt the hard stone hitting against his tailbone, but the swung arm whipped the air above his head without hitting anything.

In its momentum the familiar couldn't simply turn around and attack again, and it took him a few seconds to redirect its course. Those few seconds were all Charles needed to be ready, however.

The crossbow in his hand changed shape yet again, at first sight resuming its appearance as a simple cane. However some details would quickly strike as different, namely the long needle that came out of the tip. It was between twenty and thirty centimeters in length and had some intricate patterns drawn all over it. The elderly magus was also holding the walking stick different now, upside down compared to before.

Standing up hurriedly, with the needle held out in front of him in the same way you would hold a fencing sword, he waited for the familiar to come at him for round two.

Just like before the dog-like creature sprang up at him with its 'weapons' drawn out, but it must have learnt from its previous tentative as instead of swinging its paw it tries to pounce on Charles like a feline. Yet, atthe same time it initiated its attack, Charles bent his back forward and realized a magnificent thrust with his cane, aiming for the one part of teh familiar's body which seemed somewhat organic: its eye. He was helped by the monster's momentum and the needle penetrated the eye almost efortlessly with a chilling squicking sound.

Charles didn't wait to visually confirm his success and as sound a he felt contact he chanted a different spell from before.

" _Draconis secundus: Mortem_."

The tip of the needle, which was still stabbed in the creature's eye, emitted a white, piercing cold light. As it did that, the familiar's body shook uncontrolably with much vigor, before just as suddenly stopping to move altogether, and the greyish material that made-up most of it crumbled away like eroded rock.

What Charles' spell had done was nothing short of inflicting instant death upon it, although thetruth was of course more complicated. Simply put, it was a spell that searched or and destroyed an enemy's vitals regardless of their nature. Had he stabbed a normal, organic living being it would probably have burst its heart or at least its blood vessels; but since these familiars didn't seem to function that way, it had instead aimed for the magical contract that kept them alive in the first place. It was even more instantaneous, but also more costly.

Although it was such a deadly power, it wasn't very convinient for several reasons. First of all, there were some criterias to respect for it to work, namely the target being stabbed by the needle cotinously for the whole duration of the spell – if it was removed before, the target would be harmed but alive – and of course chanting the incantation, which left some time for the opponent to get away. Secondly, it acted by invading the target's body and magical circuits with Charles' own prana. On other words, it functioned a lot like Mystic Eyes and could be rejected by an experienced magus.

At the end of the day, it wasn't very efficient a weapon against close-combat professionals and above-average magi, which limited its efficiency as a close-quarter Mystic Code. That being said, it came in quite handy in that situation were he would need nothing short of instant death to deal with his opponents.

Sadly, it was useless against the other sword of Damocles hanging above Charles' head; the magic net he had used to impede the rockslide had been cat hurriedly without regard to efficiency, and it was holding back quite a large number of boulders – the magus had barely taken care of the familiar that it started to show signs of wearing out. He had not time to waste in fighting against opponents which had a clear advantage anyway, and he returned to his crazy climb down the mounatin slope with other familiars still hot on his heels.

Reaching the foot of the slope wasn't actually his goal – the rocks about to come rumbling down behind him wouldn't suddenly stop and gently go back – but simply to advance a far as possible and reunite with Laurent and Ladylee shortly. Needless to say, this objective was anything but accomplished. Yet, Charles wasn't feeling pressured nor anxious in any way, at least not as much as he should in this situation he was absolutely not used to.

He had rarely ever need to fight seriously in life as he was more of a scholar; even as a magus that was ready to die as a misfortunate result of his experiments, a situation of impeding doom such as his current calvacade along the elements of nature and those of magacraft was unheard of in his long life.

Even then, he wasn't losing his composure or his level-headedness to panic and fear for his existence. One might call it the tested steel of old age. One may see it as the pragmatism of a man used in dealing with life and death. It could even be regarded as simple bravery if one was romantic enough. However, it ultimately burned down to a refreshing feeling of being alive.

' _This is what it means to be alive_ ', he could have said if he breath wasn't being put to much better use. An active appreciation of life rather than a passive consumation; a preference of quality of quantity. How ironic that he, an old magus who was more at home in his study than out on the streets, turned out to have the passion of intense adventure?

In any case, he didn't find the situation all that unpleasant, in spite of the pain of having his leg and shoulder lacerated by ruthless claws. Three other of those squeleton-like familiars had come and try to take his life: the first one was expected and didn't put up too much of a fight before being disintegrated in turn. The second one came up as more of a surprise however, and managed to wound the shoulder of the arm that was wielding his Draconis. Said arm wasn't in a goof position to counter-attack to begin with, and with this injury it became useless, and Charles resolved to repel the familiar with a spell instead. The creature was broken cleanely in half and was flung away, not dead but incapable of stopping its own fall down the slope.

By the time the third one came to contact with the old man, the _Rete_ spell weared out for good, and the second wave of boulders resumed their deadly dive, with on their path one magus and a familiar. On his side, because of his injury Charles had to swith his weapon to his other arm, decreasing his reaction speed as he wasn't ambidextrous. And as expected when the third familiar came at him he was too slow to kill it on the moment – the dog managed to avoid the lethal Mystic Code and dug its claws into Charles' leg. It wasn't so bad that it would paralyze it, but it was enough to make him lose his balance and fall backward, making him even more vulnerable.

At the same time, it was a fortunate turn of event since it made him notice the falling boulders, unlike the familiar which was focused on its next attack to kill him for good. Both were very imminent threats, and Charles should probably have his thoughts invaded by the one right in front of him. But instead he saw an opportunity there. Reaching for yet another jewel, he made a bet: who would be faster, this familiar or the boulders? They apparently had no survival instinct so it would probably not try to avoid the rocks falling down.

Charles could use a spell to protect himself from the creature, but it would require a different kind of spell to survive the rockslide – he wouldn't have the time to cast both. There were only five seconds left before the masses of stone reach them; the rumbling uproar of their furious procession resounded louder than the bells of death itself.

 _ *** Stop music**_

One second – Charles brought his unwounded arm up in front of his as a shield.

Two seconds – the familiar pushed it aside violently; as it had climbed on him like a predator, there was nothing Charles could do anymore.

Three seconds – one claw was used to keep Charles down, whereas the other was raised ruthlessly above its 'head', ready to declare the winner of this bet.

Four sec– _SLASH!_

The claw was finally swung down. A thick red liquid spurted out and sprayed on the mountain side. The air up here on the mounatin, especially in this season, was extremely cold, and thus steam arose when the hot fresh blood came in contact with it.

Five seconds – "I win." Charles announced with a smug smile adorning his face, although it was lost in the noise surrounding them.

Just when the familiar was about to slash off his head and kill him for good, the proximity of the boulders that were upon them already created a small tremor that had sufficed to modify the arm's trajectory slightly, and instead of reap his life the claws dug into his cheek and met against the hard stone below him.

Charles didn't have the time to rejoice however. In the hand he hadn't used to defend himself, he still held the jewel tightly, and had started to activate his spell at the same moment the familiar had tried to finish him off. His body was envelopped by a warm light just as the shadow of the rocks covered the two of them and the first stone slammed against them with full momentum. The one to feel the full brunt of it, however, was the familiar who was smashed to pieces without any resistance whatsoever.

Charles, onthe other hand, was miraculously unhurt. Or so it would seem, but for one it wasn't a miracle and for two he still felt the impact, only greatly diminished by his spell which absorbed most of the shock. At best it felt like receiving a huge blow, which wasn't exactly a pleasant experience either.

Not to mention, more were on the way.

Charles gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as tightly as he could while the shower of impacts stomped over him. But when the rumbling ceased completely, he was alive. Battered, wounded and out of breath, but alive and well!

"Hoho...looks like I'm a bit too old for these kind of exercices after all..." Not without pain, he stood up and looked at the area all around him. No familiars. No rockslide. No immediate threat. It almost felt as though he had stepped into another world for a second. But the sounds of the battles still ongoing far away prevented him from believing that. "I shouldn't be loitering around, should I? I must catch up with the children-...!"

 _ *** Higanbana – There shouldn't be anyone there**_

His sentence and his train of thought were interrupted by a sudden, dry and oh so sudden sound that echoed loudly throughout the mountains: a gun shot. His heart almost stop as well; it was a sound that didn't belong here. It wasn't part of the world of magi, of the world of the Holy Grail War. It wasn't something he expected to hear on this battlefield, as contradictory as it may have sounded.

Instinctively, he turned his gaze toward the general direction it had come from. Logically, it should be further on his way if he kept following their initial escape route.

Exactly where Laurent had run off to.

"What was that...! Caster! Respond, Caster! Kh!"

He seemed unable to make contact with his Servant, no matter how hard he tried. It wasn't that Caster was giving him the cold shoulder, but rather that he couldn't call at all for some reason.

More gunfire followed, this time from another direction almost opposite to the previous, yet much closer to himself.

"What is going on here! Ah, no point in hurting my throat, isn't it." Any refreshing feeling he had had been washed away by a cold shower. "What should I do? I should probably meet up with Laurent..."

 _Master,_

At this moment, Caster's voice resounded in his head, and Charles almost heaved a sigh of relief, but then he realized he still couldn't answer.

 _This isn't mental connection, Master, so you won't be able to reply. This is a one-way message I sent with magecraft so listen well. Someone or something is jamming all kind of communications right now. Archer shouted loudly from the other side to tell me there were familiars that slipped by unbeknownst to us. Since I'm not dying right now I take it you aren't dead yet either so be careful._

A bit too late. Thinking about it now, Charles probably shouldn't have played with his own life since Caster's was also on the line; that realization made him blush a little in embarrassment. Although the moody blacksmith would probably not care very much in the end.

 _But there is more pressing. It's about time I end this message, since something more dangerous showed up now of all times – Master, I have a Servant in front of me._

* * *

Meanwhile, someone was laughing about this whole mess, laughing about the people running around like scared mices ready to bite each other without realizing they were also mices. Well, he wasn't really laughing. He was only wearing the same expression, tirelessly and without fail, a content smile upon a calm expression. It was an expression that beheld everything with both interest and contempt, a gentleness of the features and a cruelty of the eyes. He was composed as he always was, even when watching his own plan unfold without a hitch in front of him, and yet it was easy to think he was laughing inside his mind.

That person was the Caster of the White Faction – a mysterious man, with a lean body wrapped up in a strange dark robe, simple and sober yet also terribly eerie. The multitude of accessories decorating it gave the impression of being beyond aesthetical, that they weren't worn because of vanity but to serve a purpose. All of it put together, this outfit beared an uncanny ressemblance to a ceremonial costume of sort, although one would be hard-pressed to know which religion it belonged to. His hair, curls cascading down his shoulders and sometimes even down his back, didn't look properly taken care of, yet at the same time weren't out of control.

As to the place he dwelled in...there were many way to describe it, but the most accurate would probably be 'creepy', at least to those who had never taken a step in the world of magi. The magic circles written all over the floor and the walls, and even sometimes the barely-lit ceiling, gave the strong impression that humans in general didn't belong there, like an alien world where anyone but its master would be out of place.

Physically speaking, it was just a very wide, very vast underground room with few lights making shadows dance inside this bizarre world, as though they could really be there waltzing in circles around the esoteric symbols. But that was only the feeling this place gave. In truth, looking beyond its immediate appearance, it was a normal room, at least for the unknowledgeable masses.

Caster was standing in the middle of one of the many magic circles drawn on the floor, holding in front of him a thick ominous book which pages were turning on their own, frenetically as though a strong wind was blowing through the underground. And yet the last page never came, although the book couldn't contain that many of them and although they were being turned by the dozens. It was simply like an infinite number of pages were hustling. It was most likely an illusion for the eyes: at the same time the grimoire emitted an intense light that outperformed all others, while small symbols floated around with no visible logic.

"Master. Master!" Caster called for his Master, and as soon as he did the smallish figure of a young girl appeared. "Ah, there you are."

She was easily a couple heads smaller than him and didn't stand out much compared to her Servant, with chestnut hair cut much more cleanely than her Servant's. She was also wearing similar accessories than Caster, but unlike him she was wrapped up in a thick winter coat due to the cold. There was no heating system in their 'fortress', and although one could be installed with magecraft Caster had privileged other projects instead, including the large army of familiars he had sent out to meet both Factions.

Servants didn't suffer from heat or cold, but his Master was another matter entirely. If she asked his to do something about it, he'd oblige without arguing. However, she wouldn't complain no matter what, at least not about how she felt herself. She wouldn't dare to. That was already a sign that their Master-Servant relationship was completely thrown out of balance and meant nothing here.

And it wasn't only in such occasions; rarely did Evangeline Golodiaïev give any order or ask anything. Instead, it was Caster who took initiatives and planned their battle. If not for the clear level difference between them, one could almost think he was the Master and she was the Servant.

"What is it, Master Therion?" She asked in a low and soft voice. Caster had already told her there was no need to address him as more than a Servant, but she was quite persistent in that regard. He didn't insist though – it wasn't that he was worried about something like equality, he just didn't care much to begin with. "Has something happened?"

Caster noticed she had something on her mind from her sober, practically somber expression. Usually, she would look like a cultist as much as he looked like a cult leader. She'd have this strange eerie smile that was unbefitting of a sane person, and she wouldn't let other expressions surface on her mask of flesh. In that regard, she and Caster were particularly compatible. For her to be bothered like this, Caster could guess the reason.

Nonetheless he didn't point out – if she wanted to say something, she'd have to say it for good, by herself. The blunt truth was that Caster didn't care much for opinions that weren't stated firmly and kept in the warmth of silence. Thus he ignored that fact and proceeded with the reason he called her here for.

"Things have evolved the way I expected them to. Since they had nowhere else to go, they succefully ran into each others, and now both Factions will have no choice but to fight. I wonder if they can realize they're being toyed with by a third party? Maybe they can..." For a moment, Caster lost himself in thoughts. Then, his focus came back as he must have come up with an answer. "But regardless, I called upon you because I cannot move from here, lest I disrupt my spells. Could you ask Miss Angelene to send out Berserker to meet them? I will gather what little is left of our troops to support him."

"But if we send Berserker, won't they realize they're being manipulated?" Evangeline asked with a puzzled look. Caster was contradicting himself here, by purposefully asking something that will disrupt his plan.

"That's exactly what I want, Master. Don't worry to much about it, I won't do anything that could threaten us. If Miss Angelene thinks Berserker is in danger it is her right to bring him back with a Command Seal if necessary."

"..."

"What's the matter? It's not a problem if you don't understand."

"...Master Therion, why are we still here?" In contrast to the soft whisper-like tone she normally used, this time her voice held a bit of unexpected strength. She was letting out what was on her heart it seemed. "We already have the Grail Shard Mr. Pedilefey asked us to find, so why are we holding our positions and baiting the other Masters? We could have used this diversion days ago to escape."

Was that reproach in her eyes? Caster thought, she didn't make any choice but she could very well use her head. But he wasn't worried about his Master admonishing him. On the contrary, he was interested enough that he held his breath for what would follow. Simply because Caster took actions detrimential to their cause, Evengeline wouldnt speak up against his choices. There was a reason,a nd though he could guess which one it was he was curious to hear it from her mouth.

Facing his silence, the short girl had the choice between hushing for good and keeping up her effort. She seemed to hesitate but eventually went with the latter.

"Staying here isn't good. Anastasia doesn't have a good health, this place is harmful for her. She said she doesn't mind the cold but that's only because she knows nothing else." The more she spoke, the more her voice faltered. It wasn't nervousness. Then, rejection? Could she not accept her own words?

Regardless her mouth eventually closed and she glanced at her feet witha mix of shyness and dissatisfaction. Caster didn't make fun of her though, even in his head.

"I see, I see. Well, you don't need to worry. If I'm correct we won't stay here for much longer anyway, and I wasn't planning on leaving on foot to start with so you have no reason to worry."

"...U-um, is that true?"

"Of course! I wouldn't lie to you Master. Now, could you convey my message to Miss Angelene?"

"Y-yes!"

The trademark smile resurfaced, wiping away the remnants of her opposition from before in the process. Awkwardly, Evangeline turned around and left the strange world of her Servant. Caster was a bit disappointed she couldn't keep up 'till the end, but that mattered not. He told her they would be safe, but that was only if he didn't so a mistake, so he couldn't allow a wrong step now. He wasn't a nice person who would look out for other people, but since he made a promise he was intent on following through with it.

"Very well, little mices. Can you turn out to be fawns? I want to test my fangs against lions, not scared little mouses."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading this chapter!_

 _Hey there, people!...although I already saw you at the beginning of the chapter!_

 _I didn't give it too much attention so far, but damn, it's already the seventeenth chapter! And yet we're so far from the end it feels like nothing..._

 _Regarding this chapter, I actually don't have much to say. I wonder if the pre-title scene surprised you? Ewald and Lancer didn't get that many moment together (which shall be rectified at some point) so maybe you didn't expect that evolution. By the way, if you want to know when that scene happens comepared to the rest, you can just think of it as having happened at some point (a.k.a. it doesn't really matter)._

 _Also, this arc will introduce Caster and Berserker of White and their Masters! They didn't get much screentime so far – if any – so there's nothing to really remember about them from previous chapters. This arc is turning out to be longer than the previous ones (which had an everage of four chapters) with probably two more chapters left to go. Slowly but surely, we're approaching the end of Act I!_

 _Once again, thank you for reading! Don't hesitate to comment, review or ask a question!_

 _~Legends Storyteller_


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